Pen Pals
by Minghella Darcy
Summary: Two fourth grade classes become involved in an international pen pal project, never suspecting that their teachers may have alterior motives. This story involves a ton of original characters and an original setting. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1: Class Assignment

Chapter 1: Class Assignment

September 13th

Dear Christopher,

My name is Areyn Gabrielle Pryce. I'm 9 years old and have four brothers. I'm in the 4th grade at The School of the Blessed Redeemer and am writing to you as a class project for Ms. J. She told us that you're from Canada though, so I'm excited about the project. I've never written to someone in Canada before. What's it like up there. Is it really cold? Frank said that it snows all the time up there and that you use another kind of thermometer to tell the temperature. Do you live in an igloo like they do in Alaska? I hope you are doing well in Canada.

Sincerely,

Areyn

----------

October 5th 

Dear Areyn,

You have a cool name. I'm 9 too and I go to Finch Elementary in BC. We're doing this for a project too, but I like writing anyway so that's okay. I only have one sister. We call her Dweezer. Do you like your brothers? What are their names? My mom and dad liked your letter. Tell your friend that it does not snow up here all the time, but we have really cold winters. We use Celsius to measure temperature, but we don't live in igloos. My birthday is July 16th. What do you do for fun? Have a happy Thanksgiving!

Sincerely,

Chris

----------

November 16th

Dear Chris,

It is not Thanksgiving until next week, but thanks anyway. I know because my dad's birthday is the day after this year. My real mom's birthday was in July too! My birthday is April 16th, so I am older than you. I sing and read for fun. Ms. J helped me look up British Columbia on a map yesterday, but we could not find Fort Saint John. I wish I had a sister. My brothers are a real pain sometimes. Their names are Lewis, Mackenzie, Jerome, and Matthew. I'm the second oldest in line. How about you? Hey, do you guys celebrate Christmas up there?

Sincerely,

Areyn

----------

"Why are you sending the letters all the way to Canada," Areyn's stepmother asked pointedly while the girl squirmed in her seat. The woman was short and squat, with stringy brown hair that was clearly falling out. The teacher being addressed had to wonder at the contrast between Areyn's stepmother and her real mother. Angela had been beautiful and curvy, with smooth dark skin and long braided hair before the cancer had mercilessly ravaged and devastated her body. It was clear that Angela's daughter would someday bear similar features. The girl looking desperately unhappy in her desk did not have her stepmother's commanding presence though, which the flabby woman was currently using to try to intimidate the teacher sitting in front of her.

Ms. J sighed heavily, pulling some of her long, blond hair back into a reluctant bun and wishing once more that her childhood friend had not died of that cancer the year before. Angela would have at least tried to understand this project and what it could mean to educational practices. Keva on the other hand...

"The woman I'm coordinating this project with, Mrs. Wertamer, is quite a distinguished member of the Albertan Teacher's Council of Canada. She is also a good friend of mine. We both feel that this project will foster cultural awareness and a spirit of cooperation-"

"They could learn that in other ways," the new Mrs. Pryce pressed heatedly. "This project of yours is a waste of time and money."

"Well, I'm very sorry you feel that way," the younger of the two women responded calmly. "Actually, the cost of sending these children's letters is nominal. I am paying for the stamps and envelopes out of my own pocket. As for the time spent, Samantha and I both feel that just having the experience of writing to someone in another country is worth more than any other assignment we could give them. If you could only see how happy they are writing to their new friends, you would understand why we're doing this."

The girl's stepmother took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself before attempting to argue. It was not helping that the teacher sitting across from her did not seem phased by her anger. "I just feel that my daughter should be focusing on her studies rather than this Canadian nonsense."

"With all due respect, Mrs. Pryce," Ms. J began, sounding exasperated; "Areyn is one of the smartest students in my class. Her studies are going exceptionally well, as her grades more than adequately reflect."

"Mom?" Both women looked over as if just remembering the girl was there. "Mom, why don't you like Chris? He's really smart and nice. And you said-"

"Areyn, go wait in the car."

"She can't," the teacher interjected before the girl could respond. "Her part in this parent-teacher conference is to show you around the classroom."

"I saw my daughter's classroom in the ten minutes it took you to finish with the last parent. I chose this time because I have two more children's teachers to see."

"I understand your concerns. In fact, several parents have had similar complaints. But this is a part of the process that we've been practicing for the last two weeks."

"And I've seen her work already. Right now I'd like to discuss this 'Pen Pal' project further and-"

"There is nothing further to discuss, Mrs. Pryce. This project has been presented and unanimously approved by the Archdiocese. Unless you have a specific ethical concern about my methods, her grade will include participation in this project."

"I will be speaking to Sr. Nancy about this," the woman glared.

Ariel marveled yet again at her friend's husband's choice of wife. Reginald had met Keva during the final stages of his wife's illness. They started seeing each other three months before his wife had died and were married three months later in a small, private ceremony. She had not been invited to the wedding, but that was to be expected. Keva tended to view any woman in her husband's life as competition.

"As I said, you are welcome to take this up with the principal, the school board, or Cardinal Bevilaqua himself, but unless you have a specific ethical concern, they will all support my judgment on this matter." A tense silence spun out between the two women as they each prepared for the next skirmish. Meanwhile, the fourth-grader sitting between them tried her best to disappear. Sensing the young girl's desire to be gone, Ms. J relented a little.

"Mrs. Pryce, although I do have universal academic approval for this project, you have to understand how closely both my colleague and I are being monitored. I had to get approval from the Philadelphia School Board, the Pennsylvania Board of Education, and the International Teacher's Union before I could even suggest this project to the executive PTA Board."

"If your project is so harmless, Ariel, why did you have to go to so much trouble," the older woman challenged, triumph ringing in her voice.

"To cover the higher-ups," Ms. J answered with a disgusted frown, forgetting her anger at the woman sitting across from her as she remembered how much resistance she had met up with when introducing this study to her superiors. "Because no one has ever tried something like this before, everyone is doing their best to put all the blame on me if things go wrong, Keva." Areyn's teacher fell silent at that, but this time the angry stepmother simply waited for her to continue.

"I don't just hand my students paper and let them go at it. I read over each draft before allowing them to read and discuss them as a group. It takes up to a week for each batch of letters to be ready. And, yes, I've had students rewrite parts of their letters that seemed too personal. I've never had to do that with your stepdaughter's letters, however. She seems to have a very firm understanding of what she calls 'family business'. And as I mentioned in the permission slip I sent back in September, I have copies of all the letters Areyn has sent so far, along with her partner's reply. Please feel free to have a look at them anytime."

"How many more letters will she be sending?"

"The project is over in June, Mrs. Pryce. All of this information was in the packet I sent home with Areyn on the first day of school."

Keva's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "In that packet, you made is sound like the class would be sending one group letter each time."

"The original plan was for one group letter," Ms. J replied, rooting through a stack of papers with a sigh. "But each of our supervisors advised us that that method would not give us the results we would need for our joint report. That is why I sent this," she held up a half-sheet of yellow paper, "to inform every parent that we were changing that aspect of the project."

"I've never seen that paper," the mother said, glaring at her stepdaughter as if daring her to disagree. The girl did not notice this as she was still attempting to will herself out of the room.

"Perhaps you don't remember it because you signed it and sent it back with her the next day," the teacher suggested, handing over an identical paper that bore the woman's signature. "I'm sure that we both are acting in Areyn's best interest, but you agreed to this project long before the first letter was sent. I assure you that no private information is being given out by any of these children, as the only real correspondence is between Mrs. Wertamer and me. We talk with the children as a group and individually about their letters and the responses. Many have even said they'd like to continue talking with their pen pals after the project is over. The only complaints I've received have come from one other upset parent besides you. Out of thirty-two parents, I would say that your concerns are not enough to stop this." Areyn's mother looked as if she was swallowing a particularly sour lemon, but Ms. J pressed on.

"We are taking all feedback into account of course, but we are not going to stop the project for no good reason. Your stepdaughter is exceptional, Mrs. Pryce. She's smart, she's dedicated, and I believe that her creativity and writing skills are going to come in handy in the years to come. Her mother would have been proud," Ariel put in, smiling at her student fondly. Now, if you truly don't wish to participate in the 'classroom tour' we've arranged for you, this conference is over." With that, the woman stood and left the classroom, looking harassed.

"Go wait by the car, Areyn," Keva growled, seething with hatred. How dare that bitch bring up Reggie's first wife like that! She would have liked nothing better than to transfer her new children out of this wicked school where Angela's school chum taught, but the Archdiocese would not allow it. She would just have to work harder to convince Reggie that another move would be best for them all.

Areyn slumped in her seat, but then stood quickly before her stepmother noticed. The girl knew better than to disobey or try to convince the woman of anything right now. She hurried out of the classroom, crumpling the badge she was supposed to give her mother after the 'tour' was over.

"At least my real mom would have been proud of me," she comforted herself.

----------

December 18th

Dear Areyn,

Yes, Santa gets to Canada on December 25th every year. Dweezer and I have already made our lists. She's younger than me, by the way. Pepper (our dog) is very excited as well because my grandma is here and she brought lots of food with her! It smells really good in the house right now. Mrs. Wertamer is letting us write our letters at home this time and bring them in tomorrow.

Grammy said to say 'hi' and to wish you and your family a merry Christmas. Hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely,

Chris

P.S. What do you mean, 'your real mom'?

----------

January 13th

Dear Chris,

Christmas was great. We went to church and the singing was beautiful. We also got lots of presents. Lala (my grandmother) stopped by, but my favorite uncle, Uncle Jimmy, was in town from Massachusetts! I have a ton of relatives, and I think we saw almost all of them during the break, but Uncle Jimmy is just plain cool. He's really smart and easy to talk to.

Ms. J suggested that I join the choir the other day. I haven't talked to Ms. Keva about it yet, but I'd really like to. I really love singing, after all. Anyway, I hope your family is doing well.

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. My mother died last year. She was real sick and in a lot of pain though, so I'm glad she's with God now. My dad remarried, so I have a stepmother.

----------

February 13th

Dear Areyn,

I'm glad your Christmas was good. My Uncle Guido appar stopped by just to see Dweezer and me. He's my mom's really crazy brother. I hope you talked to your parents about the choir. You sound like singing is really important to you. That's like drawing for me. I can't sing, but I can draw. Dweezer is better than I am at it though. It's sort of how we get along. What about you and your brothers? Everyone is doing great here. How's your family? I'm sorry to hear about your mom.

Sincerely,

Chris

P.S. I know it's a little early, but happy Valentine's Day. Here's a card I made for you.

----------

March 15th

Dear Chris,

Saint Patrick's Day is so much fun! It's still 3 days away and still everyone is so jolly! We had to do art projects with leprechauns and mine was horrible. I don't draw that well. I kind of wish I could get along with my brothers the way that you do with your sister. We fight most of the time, and we don't have anything in common. They love playing outside and sports and stuff. I'm an indoor person. I read and study while they play. They think I'm a goody-two-shoes, but I don't care. Judy Blume's my favorite author. What kind of books do you read? Are you an outdoor person?

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. I know I'm late, but happy Valentine's Day. See, I made you a card. And thank you for yours.

----------

April 16th

Dear Areyn

Thank you for the Valentine's Day card. I keep it with my art stuff, I hope you don't mind. I'm glad Saint Patrick's Day was so much fun for you. It's great up here too. Lots of Irish stuff and rainbows. It rained on St. Patrick's Day this year. Mom and Dad piled us in the car and we went looking for the end of the rainbow when it appeared. We didn't find it, but we had tons of fun searching for that pot of gold! We do things like that sometimes. There's lots of space and forests and stuff here to get lost in. I'm going to miss it too. We're moving to Alberta after the school year. Dad got a job there and we all have to go. I think I'll miss visiting Grammy and Gramps the most though. They're fun to be around and they know a lot about mag life. Maybe we can keep writing over the summer. Would you mind that?

Happy Birthday! Hope you like my little present. Mom said it was a good idea, and now you'll have a piece of Canada in the States.

Sincerely,

Chris

----------

May 13th

Dear Chris,

You remembered my birthday! Thank you so much for the shell. It's so beautiful! I keep it in my room. I use your valentine as a bookmark, okay? I know what you mean about moving though. I had to move at the end of last year. Dad really didn't want to stay where we were. He said that we needed a change, and my step mom agreed. I didn't really have any friends though, so that part wasn't so bad. I don't like this new school very much. Most of the kids at my school have been together since kindergarten. But I have my books and the choir to keep me busy and happy. I bet you have lots of friends, and once you move, you'll get even more. Just have your BC friends write to you. I'm sure you'll be fine. I'd love to keep writing to you over the summer. Then I can surprise you on your birthday!

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. I'm glad you're my friend.

----------

Ariel Jayalaxmi looked over this, Areyn's latest letter with a deep sigh. Areyn used to be so quiet and withdrawn, all but refusing to speak to her classmates. Since meeting her pen pal, however, her participation in class and with the other students had drastically improved. He seemed to be a wonderful influence on her, and according to Samantha, the feeling was mutual. The fact that the two were becoming the best of friends warmed her heart.

The problem was her stepmother. If Keva had her way, the two would never have met. And if she knew the woman, Areyn would not be allowed to continue her friendship with Chris beyond the official project. She had sent her students home with letters offering to take care of any letters they wished to send letters over the summer, but even that would not help Areyn's situation. It was heartbreaking to see them so happy and hopeful, knowing that Chris' letter next month would likely be the last time they ever heard from each other.

"Ariel?" The teacher smiled despite herself. The woman in front of her was tall, extremely thin, and knobby despite all the food she regularly ate. She had jet black hair and a nose a little too big for her face. Ariel could never seem to look at her friend without thinking of Popeye's girlfriend, Olive Oil.

"Just thinking about our little problem, Sam. I can't see a way around it."

"But if the parents knew-"

"It's not our place to tell them," Ariel interjected in a world-weary tone. "She hasn't even started presenting as a witch; none of the children have. For all we know they might be Dunces. We can't use a possibility to force Keva into letting them stay friends. There's just not enough evidence in this situation for that. Besides, only a headmaster has the right to introduce Regs to the magical world." This was an old argument, and the fact that her friend refused to drop it annoyed her.

"So, the parents are truly not magical?" Samantha asked sadly.

"Non-magical AND deeply religious." Both women cringed, knowing just how dangerous a combination that could be. "Heck, even her mother was a regular, but at least she was somewhat tolerant. With her gone, Arc-Professor Good will have a difficult time with the Pryces."

"We both know how good he is with these situations," Sam reassured with a friendly pat on the back. "Wizards and witches are so delicate at this age, though... Is there anything we can do?"

"Prepare them as best we can for whatever comes, I guess. Have you told Chris' mother the situation yet?"

"Of course," Sam answered. "She seems to think that if she contacts Areyn's parents, they can come to an understanding. She's actually planning to send a letter with Chris' next month. Is the father against this too?"

"Of course not," Ariel smirked. "All Reginald seems to want is someone to look after his kids while he works himself to death. I doubt he even knows about this. I doubt he even remembers his children's names," she finished darkly. She often felt that she should hate Reggie, both for allowing his wife to go through the final stages of her illness practically alone and for all but abandoning his five children after she died. But all she could ever manage was pity, or occasionally, exasperation. Reggie had never been a strong man. She doubted he could have handled the children at all without another strong woman there to take Angela's place at the helm. His choice for a replacement mother, however, left much to be desired.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said 'maybe you should warn the poor girl'," Sam repeated a little impatiently. "Judging from her last letter, it sounds like she's in denial about the whole business.

Ariel nodded. "Good idea," she sighed, handing over that month's stack of letters. "At least she'll have a chance to say goodbye if I can manage it." She looked her friend over. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know we usually have a girl's night out when we meet up for the month, but I honestly don't feel much like partying right now."

In a rare moment of insight, Sam chose not to argue. "It's really getting to you, isn't it?" she asked instead, settling into a chair for the time being.

"Of course it is," Ariel snapped, pacing angrily. "You're lucky, you know. The most you have to worry about is keeping the ones from Mugwump families from including magic references in their letters. Want to know what Keva's doing now? She's trying to put a motion through the PTA and the school board blocking all projects like ours in the future. She claims that I'm exploiting my students AND she's trying to have me put before an ethics committee!"

"What," Sam gasped, outraged. "You can't be serious! What could she possibly-"

"According to her, I've been coercing my students into writing their letters. Which, of course, they didn't want to do."

"She's reaching," the woman grinned, standing up to stop her distressed friend's pacing. "The kids want to write the letters! And even if they didn't, teachers make students do assignments and projects that don't want to do all the time. If that's unethical, then we're ALL out of a job!" Ariel laughed heartily at this, and Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. Ariel had laughed precious little since Keva Pryce started her campaign against the Pen Pal project. The woman was insufferable from the American teacher's reports. But the simple truth was, Keva could not stop this project, and she wouldn't be able to stop any future projects of this nature either. That boded ill for her stepdaughter, but in the grand scheme of things, Keva's obvious lack of power with those in power was actually a very good thing.

"Okay, you right," Ariel admitted between chuckles, bringing Sam back to the present. "I know she's got nothing, but she's calling a lot of undue attention to us. I'm afraid that the board might give in just to shut her up."

"They won't," Sam smiled. "If she's calling so much attention to herself, everyone's going to know she's insane and likely desperate too. Come on, now," she added playfully, "I'm not even a Christian and I know to have some faith."

"Okay, okay! You win," Ariel gave in. "So, what type of food this month?" She started laughing anew at Sam's elated look. "Well, we do have a paper to write."

"I'm thinking Chinese," she answered happily. "I'm really starting to like that 'shrimp lo mein'."

"Done. Did you bring my poutine?" she asked absently as she ordered the takeout.

"As promised," Sam grinned, conjuring a steaming bowl of fries and cheese smothered in gravy, along with her books and notes. "The Professor Flooed me yesterday, by the way."

"Apparation is so much nicer," Ariel broke in with a sigh, "and neater too. I-"

"But you can't apparate to or from Northloft," Sam shrugged. "And there's no place for miles safe for it. Anyway," she interrupted Ariel before the woman could start bemoaning the point, "he has some really good ideas on how to submit our paper to the University. Our numbers are kinda small, but if we use a subgroup of Mugwump children as a focus, we could pull it off."

"Leave it to the Professor to have the best ideas," Ariel nodded. "You're right, though. Our numbers are kinda small. I think it'll look better as a case study. Or maybe a pilot for a larger study of magical preadolescents. What do you think?"

"That's what he said! You're good at this," Sam cheered. The two settled to brainstorming the papers after that, each confident that the Pryce situation would work itself out eventually.

----------

June 6th

Dear Areyn,

My mom said that we might not be able to write each other after this. She said that your stepmother might not let us. Why? Mom couldn't explain it, but I thought you might be able to.

Sincerely,

Chris

----------

Areyn swallowed the lump in her throat. Her stepmom had told her before that she wasn't supposed to cry outside of her room.

"Ms. J? She wouldn't really forbid me to write to Chris again, would she?"

Ariel sighed heavily, feeling close to tears herself. She had asked the girl to stay behind during lunch so that she could read her letter before the others and they could talk about it in private. She just had not been able to bring herself to talk to her student until now. She knew now, as she watched the child struggle not to cry, the depth of her mistake.

"Honey, you know how your stepmother feels about this project. You had to realize -"

"But we're not bothering anyone! And it won't effect my studies, I promise," she yelled desperately. "She hasn't even bothered to read our letters and she still won't tell me a real reason why she doesn't want me write to him! Why can't she see-"

"Because she doesn't want to see," the woman put in gently. "You're right; this has nothing to do with your grades. It's not about you at all."

"Then what does it have to do with," the girl shouted. "She won't even talk to me about this. Whenever I ask, she just sends me to my room!"

Ariel pulled the shaking girl into a hug. The woman was not surprised to hear that Keva refused to talk to her stepdaughter about the project. She was the kind of woman that felt that her word was law and should go unquestioned by everyone, especially her step-children. As to her not bothering to read the girl's letters despite her moral outrage at the project, the only reason Ariel had not mentioned this at the multiple PTA meetings was her fear that Keva might take their friendship as something else and use that to make things worse.

"What did you say, Areyn?"

"My real mom would have let me write to Chris," she mumbled miserably.

"Angela - your mother - wouldn't have liked this project either, sweetie," the teacher answered honestly. "But she wouldn't have made you stop until you gave her reason to. Like if your grades actually did drop," she finished. "She was tough and stubborn, like your stepmother. But she was also fair."

This seemed to comfort the girl. She nodded, backing away to wipe her face surreptitiously. "So that's it?"

"I'm not sure," Ariel sighed, handing over another letter. "I want you to take this home to your stepmom. It's a letter from his mother. She wanted to try and reason with Ke-your stepmother. This is our last resort. If they can't work things out, then that will be it. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, okay?"

"How could I," the girl muttered miserably.

----------

Keva sat shaking with fury, staring at the letter her daughter had brought home with her. Ariel had some nerve involving the Canadian brat's mother in this. Now she would need to write and tell the woman to stay out of this. And she would have to be civil too. Keva growled softly in frustration. She would have that teacher's head for this!

"When did you get this, Areyn?"

"Ms. J gave it to me this afternoon." Keva looked the girl over for any signs of deceit and, finding none, waved her out of the living room.

"Um..."

The woman glared, knowing what was coming next. "I don't want to hear it, Areyn. You are my daughter and I will not have you distracted from your schoolwork by this."

"But school ends tomorrow! Why can't we as least write over the summer?"

"Because when September rolled around we would be having this same conversation all over again. In my opinion, that boy has become a bad influence on you. This time last year-"

"My mother would have at least listened to me," Areyn said miserably. The sound of the slap was quite impressive. Keva was surprised that the child was not sobbing already. When she finally turned around, Keva saw why: the girl looked furious. Angry tears stood out in her eyes and she looked ready to continue the argument.

"You'd better fix your face before I fix it for you," she growled dangerously. The girl made some visible effort to 'fix her face', but result was not very convincing. Keva pushed on despite this, knowing that the angry stare would not be leaving her face, no matter how slack-jawed she became. "Don't you ever say that again. I am your mother now and I am doing what's best for you. You'll understand when you're older."

"Why do I have to be older to understand," Areyn shot back, surprising the woman. "You're not waiting for me to be older at all, are you? You're just waiting for me to forget."

"Go to your room, young lady. I will deal with you later."

"Why won't you answer me? You keep sending me away like some little kid-"

Keva grabbed her, shaking her angrily. "You think you're not, you insolent little girl? How dare you disrespect your mother by questioning her! Go to your room!" She pushed the girl away from her at that, not trusting herself to look at Areyn at the moment.

"I'm just asking for a reason."

"You don't need any other reason besides 'because I say so', little girl."

"Why won't you tell me," Areyn continued as if she had not been interrupted. "You're always telling everyone how smart I am. Why can't you tell me why?"

"Go to your ROOM!"

"What's the point," the child yelled back, looking scared but determined. "Tomorrow you'll tell me that I can't eat anymore and you won't have a reason for that either! He's my friend! Why won't you let me talk to him anymore?

"Go to your room, Areyn," the woman tried again, closing her eyes and praying for strength.

"Why can't you just answer?"

"I said to go to your room, Areyn. And you're not getting any dinner tonight!"

"I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHY?"

"I SAID 'GO TO YOUR ROOM'!

"WHY!" Just then a strong wave of energy washed over the living room, knocking the woman off her feet. The pulse blanketed the room, pushing on everything around Keva in the second it took to appear until all of the windows on the first floor exploded outwards. The sound was deafening; in the back of her mind Keva was grateful that her sons and husband weren't around with all the glass flying. This thought her back to her daughter and her head snapped up to see if the child was okay after such a large gas explosion.

'Where's the fire,' her mind piped up. It was true, there was no fire enveloping the room, nor was there the smell of gas in the air. So, what was happening?

Areyn looked as if she were in a state of shock. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were wild. "Honey..." The girl's head swiveled slowly around until her deep brown eyes met her mother's, and for the first time, Keva felt afraid of the child.

"Why won't you tell me?" she whispered desperately.

"Go to your room, Areyn," she answered, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I just want an answer," she continued quietly as if she hadn't been interrupted.

The woman opened her mouth to answer and felt her lungs tighten. "Go to your room." It felt strange that she should feel like she was suffocating under that unblinking gaze, especially with the glass from both of the living room windows covering her.

"Tell me why. Please?" There was no longer any air to draw on to answer the child, she was sure of it. Her vision was blurring, but no matter how dim and hazy it got, the girl's eyes remained clear. Clear and sharp and innocently focused on a woman that could not provide answers anymore.

I just want to know," the girl whispered, apparently unable to drop the subject.

Before she blacked out, the woman heard very clearly "Stupify!" There was a flash of red light and the girl went limp. As the air rushed back into her lungs, Keva looked up to see their elderly next door neighbor, Mr. Duncan, standing outside on the front porch, pointing a... stick at her fallen daughter.

"May I come in," he asked kindly. Not waiting for an answer, he climbed into the house and helped the woman to her feet as if he did this everyday.

"We need to talk," he said gravely.

----------

July 13th

To Mrs. Cordova:

While I appreciate your concerns, I do not believe it prudent to continue this project. Recent developments have shown that my daughter will require a greater amount of focus in the coming years. I believe that pursuing such a taxing relationship with your son is simply beyond her abilities.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Pryce


	2. Chapter 2: The Mirror

Chapter 2: The Mirror

"What's happened?"

Samantha Wertamer looked at Chris' mother before sighing heavily and handing over a sealed envelope. "This is your last letter, Sambo. The 'doo-doo' has hit the fan down in the States."

"What's happened," Sandra repeated calmly. Sam had to marvel at the woman's composure. Sandra was a plump woman with a pleasant disposition and warm, hazel eyes that twinkled in a heart-shaped face surrounded by light brown curls.

"And have you been reading my letters?" This seemed to shake the black-haired woman out of her silence.

"Keva's furious. Well, she was furious before but now she's furious that you would step into this situation at all, but she just found out that her only daughter's a witch last month and that's made things much worse. Ariel was called in to explain things to the Regs, but nothing's helped. It's been over a month and that... that woman still won't let the girl out of her room!"

"She's definitely a witch then?" Sandra asked, feeling her own temper flaring.

"Oh, she's a witch alright," Sam chuckled mirthlessly. "It seems she destroyed half her house and then almost suffocated her stepmother during an argument. Luckily, one of her neighbors realized what was happening before it was too late. The poor girl's in shock. Keva's only made it worse by locking her in her room like she's contagious or something."

"What about the father?"

"He's shown more interest in the child since this happened."

"Well, there's that at lea... what?" Sam was already shaking her head.

"He's backing any action his blushing bride chooses to take. He was the one that locked her in her room in the first place. What those two could be thinking is beyond-"

"When are we going in to save her?" Sandra growled dangerously.

Sam shuddered before answering, glad that the woman's ire was not directed at her. Sandra was quite formidable when provoked, and as a personal care attendant, she had the strength and ability to become violent when threatened.

"Ariel says she's allowed bathroom privileges and little else. Apparently she snuck a letter to one of her brothers when Keva sent him to deliver hers, but that's the closest she's come to contact with the outside world. Oh, before I forget." She quickly passed over a tear-stained piece of paper. "This is for Chris."

"What's being done about this? Has the Arc-Professor even been told?" the distressed mother demanded, looking ready to go rescue the little girl any second.

"Of course," Sam snapped impatiently. "We just have to wait for his next move."

"But..." Sandra let the word hang silently between the two, knowing that her companion understood.

"Don't get ahead of the professor," Sam soothed her friend quietly, "I just know he's planning something. He had that look in his eyes the last time I saw him."

----------

"Why, hello, Arc-Professor Good," a cold voice belonging to an even colder man said. The man being addressed felt his hackles raise at the sound of that falsely friendly voice, but forced himself not to turn from his shelves of books and attack his visitor with a supreme effort. The smile he felt broaden on Samuel's lips did little to help his resolve, however.

"Thank you for seeing me. How much do you know about the situation?" He could already see that his visitor intended to drag this out, a fact that annoyed him. But Samuel Dumont was head of the Dumonts now, and as useless of he might be, he was Areyn Pryce's only chance. Arc-Professor good sighed heavily, mentally preparing himself for whatever the portly, balding man might have in mind.

"Where are your manners, Matthew?" his visitor 'tsk'ed, spreading his fat finger as if insulted. Then the smile returned to his lips as he waddled towards the chair behind the headmaster's desk. "You _invited_ me here. Shouldn't you at least offer me a seat?" he asked, plopping down into the comfortable chair with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. "Now how about a drink for your old friend?"

"How much do you know about the situation?"

"No drink? Not even a word of concern? You wound me, Matthew."

"How much do you know about the situation?"

"I really don't get you, Matthew. You swore fealty to my brother-"

"-And I was released from service to the Dumont's when he died. I didn't ask you here to discuss old news, Samuel. How much do you know about the Pryce situation?" Matthew asked again, feeling his control starting to slip.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the fat man shrugged, standing and moving to inspect the bookshelves with no real interest. "I've heard a little about the little tyke's misfortune, but I have a domain to run. I don't have time to look into every little situation."

"Seamus would have." The implication of this sentence was crystal clear: _that's why I'll never serve you._ Samuel whirled around, all trace of condescending amusement gone, and pulled out his wand to attack. The wand at his neck stopped him, however. The lanky brunette that had served as his older brother's hunter was standing just to his left as if he had been there all along. His dark eyes were hard and full of the dark fire they had once possessed. Then his thin lips parted in that old parody of a smile that had once caused grown men to quake with fear.

The blood pounding in his ears told him that it was time; that the fat, worthless pig sweating and shaking in front of him was ready for death. But then the voice, her voice, reminded him what it would truly cost him to kill again. He withdrew as quickly as he had pounced, drawing his wand back up his sleeve with satisfied grin. He'd made his point, anyway. No need to kill.

"This I will say, Matthew," Samuel chuckled dryly, feeling his neck gingerly as he moved away from the headmaster, "you were the best hunter Seamus ever had. De Soto would have killed to have you during Abarai's little coup." He chuckled again, his cold smile returning once he was back behind the older man's desk. "Don't ever lose that edge, Matthew, or I will personally come back to claim what I know is mine."

"I won't," the headmaster grinned. The two stared at each other for a minute until Samuel relented, clearing his throat and straightening his suit before continuing.

"So, about the girl..."

"Here's what you'll need," the older man said, pushing a folder across the desk that separated them once more. Samuel picked it up and glanced through it before answering.

"She's got it on both sides, then?"

"I suggest you go through the mother's though. The father's is dead."

"My, my, such aptitude," the portly man smirked. "Won't your students be jealous that you're playing favorites now?" He kept his pale blue eyes downcast, hoping for an opening, but Matthew simply gave him a hard look before answering.

"Samantha and Ariel have kept me well informed."

"Ah, yes, Ariel. I know al about her and her little 'project'. How is that coming along?"

"Her 'little project' found your latest treasure. I'd say it went well."

"So touchy," Samuel 'tsk'ed again, dropping the folder. "Why are you bringing this to me instead of FoMP? This is Hensel's to fix."

"Hensel Greaden won't make a move without the approval of the Families. You know that."

"Then take it to Abarai. Livingston is closest to his territory. I haven't got time for this nonsense."

"You're inviting Grayson into your domain, then?" the ex-hunter smirked. "I'm sure he'd love a foothold in the Northeast. Especially if it means he can have one of his precious blacks." Samuel felt himself bristling again and firmly commanded himself to stop. The last thing he needed was another confrontation with this deadly ex-assassin. As much as he hated to admit it, Good had a point. His house was still recovering from Grayson's last push into his domain; giving the power-hungry black militant a reason to enter the Northeast would do nothing to strengthen his position. Carefully swallowing the sour taste in his mouth at having to admit that his brother's man was correct yet again, Samuel shrugged and picked up the folder once more.

"It will take time to set up, but we should be able to arrange a simple extraction. That's what the government is there for." He bristled again at Matthew's smirk.

"If you want to save this one, you'll have to act fast. They're starving her to death down there. And just think, when it's all over you might have another little soldier for the cause."

"Let's get one thing straight before those weak-willed French bastards fill your head with too much bullshit. You may live up here in Canada with the Champlains and their rules, but you're one of us, Matthew. That means that you swear fealty to one of the Five Families-"

"I swear fealty to no one."

"Oh, you're too high up in the ranks for that now. You left that life and the rules attached to it behind when you sought us out, Matthew," Samuel smiled broadly, relishing this small victory. "Eventually you won't be able to hide up here in academia. Eventually one of us will come for you. So, you really should be thinking about where your loyalties should lie when that time comes."

"I'll keep that in mind, Samuel," Matthew smiled coldly. Samuel cringed before cursing himself as that mad grin widened. "If there's nothing else, you may go." In the end, he was forced to retreat back to the world he knew.

----------

An older, stately woman entered the house in the wake of a solemn teenager, two rambunctious boys, and a wobbly toddler.

"Keva?"

"I'm coming, Ms. Jo," Keva answered. Jacqueline Stems observed her daughter's replacement as she bustled into the room. Keva looked tired and a bit ragged around the edges, likely from the stress of the last few weeks. All the evidence of her granddaughter's 'condition' was gone; new, better windows gleamed serenely in the humid sunlight filtering into the house and all the glass had been cleared away.

"...and take these up to your room."

"But I was gonna play with them!"

"DON'T YOU TALK BACK TO ME," Keva shrieked, her eyes bulging. "I'm your mother and you will mind me, you hear? You take those things up to your room and put them away or I will tan your hide!" Mackenzie gathered his transformers and dashed up the stairs, looking mutinous.

"And I'd better not hear you talking to that girl again, Mackenzie," the woman yelled after him.

"When are you planning to let my granddaughter out," Jacqueline asked calmly while helping to clean up the toys in the living room. Her soft body strained slightly as she leaned over to pick up some of the mess, but she was able to complete her task. She looked up and into the frantic eyes of her youngest child's replacement without a hint of compassion. Did her son-in-law truly think this porky, desperate woman worthy of raising her daughter's children?

"Why don't you boys head on up to your room? I need to talk to your stepmother." Keva flinched slightly, but showed no other sign of having heard the other woman.

"Yes, Lala," Lewis and Jerome chorused, helping their youngest brother up the stairs as they went. Jacqueline smiled after the three and turned just in time to glimpse a look of jealousy, hatred, and fury on the other woman's face.

"I wouldn't be having this trouble if you didn't constantly undermine my authority, Ms. Jo," the woman snapped petulantly.

"They are my daughter's children, Keva," Jacqueline replied sharply, noticing a shudder of anger pass through the other woman. "They know the deal. It's not 'undermining your authority' to deal with my grandchildren as I always have."

"They're _my_ children now," Keva shot back acidly. "No matter what you think of me, I was Reginald's choice."

"My idiot son-in-law chose the first woman that showed any interest in him," Jacqueline smirked. "Are you really claiming _that_ as a badge of honor?"

Keva let the statement wash over her, hating the truth of it. It was true, her husband had been very eager to latch onto the first person to come along after his precious wife's death. It was as if he'd expected her to fall into the role carved out by her predecessor without changing anything. It wasn't fair, but at the time she'd thought that the arrangement would be mutually beneficial to her need to comfort the grieving husband and show love and support to the children. Things were not working out according to either of their plans.

"I'm not here to re-hash old battles, Keva," she dimly heard Jacqueline sigh, bringing the conversation back to the present. "I want to know what you intend to do about Areyn."

"I will do what I feel is necessary."

"And what is that?" the older woman persisted.

"She is _my_ daughter and I will do what _I_ feel is bet to protect-"

"To protect yourself from her," Jacqueline spat derisively. "What happened to you was an _accident_, Keva. She didn't realize what she was doing-"

"DON'T YOU LECTURE ME, OLD WOMAN," Keva screamed. "That little girl tried to kill me! I will not have her running free around my house!"

"You may not have to," Jacqueline answered quietly. "I've been contacted by someone who is willing to take her off your hands."

"And what's that supposed to mean," Keva asked just as quietly.

"Do you know about Reggie's mother?"

"No," Keva admitted, feeling the old stab of anger at her continued ignorance about her husband.

"The poor woman was a witch," Jacqueline supplied uncomfortably. "She did not present with signs of it until very late in life and just wasted away after that. Areyn's teacher told you how rare witches and wizards are on this continent, right?"

"Yes."

"Then you realize that all of your stepchildren have been watched for signs that the magic trait in their grandmother was still present. But on my side of the family there's a distant cousin that is also a witch, Amy Livingston. She lives out on a ranch in Montana and she's coming here to discuss the living arrangements."

"'Living arrangements'?" Keva asked, feeling the conversation starting to spiral out of her control.

"Amy will be taking in my granddaughter until she's sent off to a school of magic, but she won't do it for free obviously. She's a very successful businesswoman out there with no family-"

"How the hell did this person find out-"

"One of the first things you're going to notice about the world to which Areyn now belongs is that news travels fast," Jacqueline answered evenly. "The fact of my granddaughter's removal from this house is fact. She's coming here to iron out the details... work out the terms of her impending guardianship."

"I will not turn over my child to a complete stranger!"

"Maybe not. But you will turn Angela's child over," Jacqueline said.

"They are **my** children now," Keva shouted suddenly. "Your daughter is dead!"

"They will always be Angela's children by blood, Keva," Jacqueline retorted in a dangerously low voice. "That's not going to change no matter how much you deny it. The sooner you and Reggie accept that you can't just replace my daughter and expect things to go back to the way they were, the sooner you might be able to control those boys upstairs."

"Get out of my house," Keva growled, looking murderous.

"Amy will be here in two days," Jacqueline sighed. "I suggest you prepare." The woman was moving to the door as if her business was done.

"Why?" Keva shrugged coldly, "Areyn's not going anywhere."

"You've never met her Aunt Amy," Jacqueline smiled. She left in the silence that followed her declaration.

----------

"Did you hear that? You're getting out of here soon."

"Lewis," a small voice whispered back, "she said you're not supposed to talk to me!"

"I don't give a damn what that fat bitch says," Lewis smirked.

"Mom taught us not to curse," the girl whispered softly.

"And since when did that stop us when she wasn't around?" He waited; hoping to hear her laugh, but the girl merely gave a shuddering sob. "Lala's right, though. Dad and that bitch seem to think they can act like Mom's death didn't change anything and we'll just play along. But I won't."

"Easy for you to say," his sister put in bitterly. "You've only got five years until you're free. The rest of us are stuck with her for eight years at least. Hell, Matthew won't even remember Mom. We're all just doing what we can."

"But you're getting out of here before me," Lewis insisted with a hint of admiration in his voice. "I've never even heard this 'Aunt Amy', but she's going to take you away."

"You heard Ms. Keva," Areyn sighed, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Who do you trust more, Lala or that bitch?"

"What do you call her in front of Lala anyway?" Areyn asked curiously.

"'She'. 'Her'. I refuse to call her anything but a bitch." The soft giggling on the other side of the door was reassuring as it was the first time he'd heard his sister laugh in weeks.

"But what if this 'Aunt Amy' is just as bad or worse?" the girl blurted, sounding tearful again. "We don't even know her. And how long would I be gone? I have a feeling Ms. Keva isn't going to let me anywhere near you guys now that she as a reason to hate me."

"Areyn, I'd take an unknown over being locked in there any day. I wish I could do magic."

"Don't say that! It's dangerous."

"All the better! Then I'd be able to-"

"I don't know how I did that or even what I did! I'm telling you, it was terrifying. Mr. Duncan said that I could have hurt myself just as easily as... I could have killed her, Lewis!"

"Just think how powerful you'll be when you _can_ control it," Jerome cut in.

"And the fifth commandment just goes right out the window, right?"

"Some people deserve it," Lewis muttered, scaring himself as much as his two siblings.

"No," Areyn answered firmly. "She's a grade-A bitch, but she doesn't deserve to die. 'Thou shall not kill'."

"She's trying to starve you to death!" Her stomach growled in agreement suddenly, making them all jump. "See?"

"Then it's a good thing you guys snuck me that candy, isn't it?"

"That's not the point! She keeps you locked up like some kind of convict! I think... I think she wants you to die, Areyn. Why are you defending her?"

"There's something you don't know." Both boys waited in silence for their sister to continue, knowing instinctively that whatever she was about to reveal was important. "That night, after Ms. Keva took you guys to Lala's... Dad was the one that put me here, not her. He whooped my butt, man. I ain't never had a beating like that before. Not even... You remember how mom used to lay us out when we stepped out of line." The two boys chuckled softly, remembering. "I... I couldn't sit for days after he was through with me. For a while I thought that he was gonna..." She stopped there, sounding as if she were choking on the words she refused to think of her father. "After... He taught me a bible verse. Made me memorize it before he locked me in here."

"Which one," Jerome breathed.

"Exodus twenty-two, verse eighteen," the girl recited. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." They could hear her crying on the other side of the door. "He said... He said that he didn't know what to do with me yet. He said that the next time he saw me, he'd-"

"Then you've got at least six months before you'll have to worry about it," Lewis broke in coldly.

"Lewis!"

"What? You know it's true. That cowardly bastard wouldn't have even been there that day if she hadn't begged him to take us to the doctor. And now look at him! He's hiding behind that desk of his, claiming he's running this family. Well, where is he?"

"Shh!" Lewis took a few deep breaths, listening for the sounds of their stepmother coming up the stairs after them, but none came. The radio was blasting downstairs as the woman went about whatever task she was doing.

"Look, everything's going to be fine, Areyn. You're going to be heading out with that 'Aunt Amy' person."

"I'm telling you, that bitch will never allow it," the girl grunted. "She likes having me here. She likes being able to jiggle the lock every time she passes to make sure I stay put."

"She's afraid of you," Jerome piped up suddenly, "She's all but admitted it. Soon you won't even have to worry about her anyway. Lala wouldn't lie."

"Lala? Jerome, Lala was practically born in the damn church! If dad knows that passage, you can bet she does, she's read the bible cover to cover before. I don't think she likes me very much right now."

"If she didn't like you, she wouldn't have told that bitch about this 'Aunt Amy' at all. You're out of here in two days. I'd start packing if I were you."

"But what about-"

"Lala hates that bitch almost as much as we do."

"Hey, did you know that stuff about Dad's mom," Mackenzie interrupted, chuckling as both boys kneeling at Areyn's door jumped.

"I didn't," Lewis admitted, ignoring his brother's chuckling. "But I was just a kid when she died."

"Yeah," the girl agreed. "I was a baby, and Dad never talks about her. It sheds some light on the situation though." The group sat in silence, pondering this.

"I wonder if Lala's gonna-"

"I'd better not be hearing y'all up there talking to that girl!" The sound of scampering footsteps met this statement. Keva stomped up the stairs, wondering why her sons insisted on talking with their murderous sister. She would have thought that they would have welcomed the separation, as all they ever seemed to do was fight. But since Areyn's attack on her, the children seemed to have reached some unspoken truce.

She banged on the girl's door before checking that the doorknob did not turn when she tried it.

"Your grandmother stopped by, Areyn. Did the boys tell you that?" the woman asked sweetly. Silence met the question. "You know she didn't even ask to see you?" Again, no answer. "Don't you ignore me in there!" She banged on the door again.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Areyn said dully when the noise died down.

"Do you think you're going away with that 'Amy' person, Areyn? Well, you're not. You committed a sin and a crime and you're gonna stay right in that room of yours and think about what you've done."

The girl did not answer and eventually the woman started downstairs to check on tonight's leftovers. During the first two weeks of her daughter's confinement, Keva had taken great pleasure in ordering foods she knew the girl liked, filling the house with delicious smells, and then presenting the girl with her two meals a day of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and water. This had seemed an appropriate punishment at the time because she knew her daughter hated those meals.

But the plan had backfired in the end. For one thing, the girl had started eating everything given to her within the first five days, which had taken the irony out of the punishment. And to make matters worse, the other four children had quickly caught on to her intentions and had stopped playing along. They had made themselves PB&J sandwiches, refusing to touch the foods she brought home. So, with the fridge overflowing with the tacos, pizzas, and other fast foods she'd bought and cash running low from over-spending, she had been forced to give in and let the child eat like the rest of them. Keva secretly gave her daughter less than the others, though.

"Damn kids," she blurted angrily, running to salvage the now burning tacos in the oven. "Why can't you ever cooperate?"

----------

June 9th

Dear Chris,

I'm not supposed to be writing this, but I don't care. I'm not allowed to be your friend anymore because my stepmother is a selfish btch that would rather have me be miserable for the rest of my life than admit that she's wrong. I tried to find out a real reason for her to stop us from writing to each other, but something terrible happened. I don't exactly understand it, and in any case I can't explain it here, but my stepmother almost... She was badly hurt.

My father has me locked in my room and I still don't know what's happening, but now is not a good time to ask questions. I pray that I'll be able to get this to you before you move, but if not, maybe your teacher can send it to you. I'm really gonna miss writing to you, Chris. You're the best friend I've ever had. Please pray for me. I'm so lost right now and I don't know what to do.

Sincerely,

Areyn

P.S. I'm so sorry I'm gonna miss your birthday. I was racking my brain for something neat to send you, but now... I just hope you're day's a special one.

----------

Chris sat staring at the letter his mother had given him that morning. Although he had already read it a dozen times, he read it again, his mind still refusing to accept the words written on the tear-streaked page.

"Are you alright, honey?" The boy turned to face his mother, a look of bewildered outrage on his face.

"I just don't understand, Mom," he shrugged. "What's happening?"

"Oh sweetie," the woman sighed, drawing her son into a hug. "Honey, some people just aren't as open to magic as we are. There's just... There's a lot happening in your friend's life right now. She just found out that she's a witch and her family is not reacting very well to the news."

"Will she be alright?" he asked.

"She'll be fine, sweetie," Sandra reassured her. "She'll just need your help."

"But how," the boy exploded, throwing off his mother's arms. "She needs me, I can tell! But I can't go there and I'm not even allowed to write her anymore!

"Chris, I... You'll just have to be patient."

"She asked me to pray for her," he told her desperately, picking up the letter and brandishing it. "I want to help, but I don't know how!"

Sandra looked at her despairing son, feeling truly helpless. Then an idea occurred to her.

"Wait here, Chris."

Chris stared after the retreating figure of his mother, completely baffled. "My Mom's a psycho," he whispered in amazement, a smile lighting his features. He knew the look he'd seen on her face before she'd left. It was the look she usually got when facing what seemed to be an insurmountable task and seeing a possible solution.

"Mom looks pretty excited. What's up?"

"I think she had another brainstorm," the boy shrugged at his sister. "What's up, Dweezle?"

"I don't know," she shrugged in turn. "I'm bored. Thought I'd come see what you were doing. Hey! Did that girl write again?" the seven-year-old asked suddenly, noticing a piece of paper on the bed that looked as if it had seen better days.

"Yeah," Chris said dejectedly. "She won't be writing anymore."

The brown-haired girl blinked in disbelief, reaching for the letter. She looked slightly taken aback when the boy snatched it out of her reach. "Chris. Let me see."

"I don't-"

"Chris! Let me see the letter," she demanded. Inside, she was shocked. The two never kept secrets from each other. But the hopeless look on her brother's face was even more disturbing to her, because her brother had never been one to give up. Dweezer waited, hand extended expectantly, until he handed it over. Then she read it and understood. "Oh no," she breathed, plopping down on the bed next to him. "Mom gave you this today?" she cried in exasperation.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I think Mom's losing her touch," the girl groaned. "She could have at least waited until after your birthday."

"No, sis," he sighed. "I've been waiting to hear back from her for almost a month and a half. I went to Mom as soon as Mrs. Wertamer left."

"What do you think's gonna happen to her," she asked, dreading the answer.

"I don't know, Dweezle," he sighed again. "Have you finished packing yet," he asked vaguely.

She couldn't help chuckling at this very obvious diversion. "Nice attempt at subtle, bro. Very nice."

"Yeah," he smiled, "I _am_ pretty subtle. So, have you?"

"I don't want to go," she admitted, shaking her head and looking more serious.

"Neither, but Mom says we'll be back to visit. I guess I should start packing too," he said, making a move towards his dresser.

"Come on, Chris," Dweezer pleaded suddenly. Let's go see Grammy."

"This stuff isn't just gonna pack itself, Dweezle."

"Yeah, but Mom'll just end up repacking our stuff anyway! You know how she's been about the packing."

"Good point," the boy nodded. "Okay, you win. Let's go see Grammy and Gramps; at least then we'll be out of her way."

"Where are you two headed?" Sandra asked as they reached the door.

"Just to Grammy's," her daughter answered. "We want to see them before we have to leave."

"Listen, honey, I know you don't want to leave BC, but this new job of your father's... It's a very good opportunity."

"But what about the rest of us?"

"Andrea," Sandra said sighed, hugging her daughter close. "I can't pretend that his move is easy for any of us, but your father and I have talked about it and... We all need this, sweetie. I know you don't understand it right now, but you will one day. And if you don't, then you and I will sit down and talk about it. That I promise you." Mother and daughter stared at each other in understanding.

"Okay, Mom," Dweezer sighed at last.

Sandra smiled gently and wiped away her daughter's tears. "Alright then. You two don't stay too long. We'll be leaving first thing in the morning by Floo." The two scampered off, racing each other out the door.

----------

"Open this door at once," a woman's voice echoed through the house. Lewis moved to unlock the front door once more, only to be held back by his stepmother.

"I've told you that you are _not_ welcome here," Keva insisted. Her face was burning with mingled fury and embarrassment, as she was sure that this awful woman's presence was attracting a great deal of attention from the neighborhood gossips. "Areyn is my daughter. You have no right-"

The door burst open suddenly, showing the silhouette of a tall, dark-skinned woman in the sunlight now streaming in through the doorway. She wore an elegant pin-striped pantsuit that showed off her lean body without revealing anything inappropriate, with thick brown hair shot through with silvery strands pulled back into a severe bun. This style seemed to match the presence she radiated, which demanded both notice and respect. She stepped into the living room with an air of impatience that irritated Keva, closing the front door with her foot and holding out a carpet bag for one of the boys in the room to take. Mackenzie grabbed it eagerly before retreating back a few steps, looking slightly afraid.

"Really," Amy Lester huffed finally in the scolding tones of a disapproving teacher, "the child and I will be flying out of this city tonight. Must you make this so difficult?"

"Areyn is not leaving this house," Keva spat. "I'm very sorry that you've wasted your time and money coming out here, but-"

"Where's the girl's father?" Amy asked over Keva's words. "Both of you will need to be here to work out the details of this contract."

"My husband is sleeping right now and there will be no contract," Keva shouted. "Now get off my property before I call the cops!" She reached for the phone, only to have it burst into flames.

"It would appear that I need to make a few things clear before we begin," Amy began dangerously, tucking her wand away. "First off, my name is Amy Livingston. Areyn is my niece, although we have obviously never met. Now, I'm positive that you know all of this information already as the children's grandmother was quick to inform me that she had completed her task of informing you of my arrival two days ago. Therefore, I will skip the preliminaries. I am here because you have proven over the last five weeks that you are unsuited to take care of the young witch you have locked in her room upstairs."

Keva gasped in shock, but Amy continued undaunted.

"Make no mistake, Keva. This is not a social visit. Areyn Dalia Pryce will be leaving with me this afternoon. I have come for her in person to determine how much you will be paying me to become her legal guardian whilst in Montana. You are not to assume that you are dealing with a woman that is willing to put up with your nonsense. As I understand it, you have had the child locked in her room for the last five weeks, which can be construed as negligence and abuse. You will go upstairs and release her immediately or I will have both you and your husband up on charges." The woman she was addressing looked murderous, but held her tongue.

"While you are upstairs, you can wake up your husband and pull out all invoices and statements regarding the cost of your stepdaughter's expenses: food, uniforms, tuition, everything. I warn you that the arrangement we reach today will be legally binding. Should you fail to live up to the terms, I will be well within my rights to sue you for breach of contract.

"And should I refuse to work out this contract of yours?" Keva demanded, fighting to keep the tremor of dread out of her voice. Even she realized that her threat was an empty one as the woman has obviously done her homework on this situation prior to showing up on her doorstep.

"Then I will be forced to call the police," Amy said, calling her bluff. "Tell me, when was the last time you let her out long enough to bathe? How long has it been since you gave her a full meal? I'm sure that a look at her weight during her last physical compared to now will show some very compelling evidence for my case." She paused for effect, her dark brown eyes hard. "Do not mistake your position here. This situation has been monitored _very_ carefully. The only thing that has saved you from litigation thus far was our belief that you would see reason given time. Since that has not happened, it is time to take action. If you cross me, you and your husband will loss everything. Your stepchildren, your house, your car, your jewels, even your dog if you have one. Everything."

Keva gawked at her, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. The unrelenting look on the middle-aged woman's face spoke the truth of her words clearer than anything Amy could have added. She rushed up to the second floor, already flipping through the keys in her pocket for the one that opened her stepdaughter's door. She had reached a decision. If this treacherous little girl was the price she had to pay for keeping her new family together, then so be it.

"Go take a bath, Areyn. Then you're to go sit in the living room and not make a sound. Don't let me catch you," she lowered her voice angrily. "If I catch you playing with the boys or doing anything... out of the ordinary, you will regret it."

Areyn could barely believe it when she heard the door unlock. It was the first time she'd been out of her room unsupervised since the day before school ended. She moved quickly to comply with her stepmother's orders, knowing that she owed her current freedom to the mysterious woman talking to her brothers downstairs. The thought of meeting this 'Aunt Amy', this woman capable of intimidating her father's wife, excited her greatly. She dressed in her Sunday clothes, making her way shakily down the stairs, but by that time the lady had moved into the kitchen with her father and Keva to discuss her new life.

"Did you hear her," Mackenzie whispered excitedly, moving close enough to the couch to block him from view of the kitchen. "That was so cool!"

"How long have they been in there? And what happened after Ms. Keva left," Areyn whispered back, more interested in this information. "What's she like?"

"They've been at it for about an hour. Dad and the bitch were shouting before, but they're hardly talking now. I think Aunt Amy's put the fear of God in them," her older brother supplied. "That lady's definitely not here to play."

"Have you caught any details?" the girl asked. "I wanna know what she's like!" She watched the boys intensely, waiting for answers.

"Well, she's fair," Lewis shrugged uncomfortably.

"I think she reads minds," Jerome burst out hoarsely, moving towards the couch as well. "She's like Mom; really good at spotting lies."

"Why were you lying to her," the girl smirked.

"Shut up," the seven-year-old retorted. "We tried listening in and got caught."

"Look, the bottom line is, you're out of here."

"But what's the point of leaving one prison for another, Mackenzie?" she snapped. "Don't get me wrong, I haven't felt this clean in weeks. And I know I owe it all to her, but... Well, what if she's worse?"

"She's not," Jerome spoke up. "I wish I was going with you."

"I wish you guys were coming with me," Areyn answered, pulling her brother into a hug, a move unprecedented in their relationship. "I doubt Ms. Keva's gonna let me talk to you guys once I leave. Who am I gonna fight with in Montana?"

"Don't worry about that," Mackenzie spoke up, looking a little teary. "We'll meet up with you as soon as we can."

"Promise me."

The three brothers old enough to realize what a promise like this would mean, looked at each other and then at their sister.

"I mean it. I will do everything I can to keep in touch, but if they cut me off, you have to promise you'll come looking for me. Please," she added, feeling tears threaten.

"I promised Mom that I'd look after _all_ of her children. That means you too, Areyn. I promise," Lewis said gravely, holding out his hand.

"I promise," Mackenzie said, placing a hand on top of his older brother's. "I'd never leave you alone out there for long."

"I promise. You have to show me some magic when I see you again, okay?" Jerome grinned putting his hand in. Matthew shocked his siblings by squealing loudly before slamming his hand down on top of Jerome's. The other four chuckled nervously at him, craning their heads to make sure the adults weren't around.

"I won't forget you guys, I promise," Areyn grinned, crying softly as she put completed the pact by putting her hand on top. She pulled the youngest of her brothers into her lap and hugged Mackenzie and Lewis in turn. "Man, this is gonna suck. What the heck am I gonna do in Montana?"

"Oh, there will be plenty to do in Montana," a voice cut into the very cozy scene, causing all of the children to jump. Their Aunt Amy was standing in the middle of the archway separating the living room from the dining room. It was clear from her stance that she had been there awhile. "You'll find that we're very friendly out there. I take it that you are my new charge?"

"Yes ma'am," the girl said, wiping her face quickly and standing to face the woman. "I'm Areyn Pryce."

"You may call me 'Aunt Amy' like the others, Areyn. Now turn around and let me see you," the woman smiled. The girl turned obediently, understanding instantly what Jerome had meant.

Amy bit down her cry of outrage at the girl's condition. She had expected Keva to have the girl bathe before meeting her, and Areyn had obviously gone to pains to make herself presentable. But nothing could hide the child's pallor, nor the fact that her Sunday clothes were hanging off of her. Her hair could use a good washing as well. She looked worn out and dead tired - two things a child so young should never look.

"We'll have to get you fed soon, child," she said. She kept her voice gentle while her stormy brown eyes locked with the father's.

The man - a tall, muscular stockyard worker - cringed visibly before returning the glare defiantly. "'Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'," he ground out furiously, looking as if he were seconds from attacking his daughter.

"Come here, Areyn," Amy said, holding out a hand for her charge. The girl hurried towards her, looking seconds from wetting herself. "Go upstairs and start packing. I'll be up to help you soon."

"Yes, Aunt Amy," Areyn whispered brokenly, running out of the room.

Amy watched her go before turning to face the father just as he rounded on his sons. "The best thing you can do right now is go back to bed, Reginald."

"DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO IN MY HOUSE," he bellowed. "You can have that monstrosity, but you will not-"

Whatever else the man would have said was lost as his tongue suddenly glued itself to the top of his mouth.

"If you don't wish to remain like that was for the rest of your life, you will keep a civil tongue in your head, Reginald." Reggie growled at her around his frozen tongue; then whirled and ripped the crucifix from over the mantelpiece. He brandished it at the witch, his eyes crazed as he grunted loudly at her.

"Go to your room, boys," Amy said with absentminded authority. The boys scurried off quickly, having decided that they wanted no part in whatever was about to happen.

"So this is what you've been wanting to do since you first saw me. Is this what you want to do to your daughter? What do you plan to do with that cross, Reginald? Are you going to exorcize me? Are you going to 'drive the demon out' now?"

"You let my husband go, you monster," Keva shouted, moving from behind her snarling husband to look for a weapon of her own.

"Sit down, woman," Amy growled harshly, her eyes flickering briefly over Keva. "This does not concern you." With a thought, she froze the fat, frightened woman in place. "Now, let's hear these sacred words that will drive the devil out of me."

With a muttered word from the witch's lips, he was free of her spell. Reginald trembled with indignation and fury. He could almost see the aura of evil around her. Her taunting smile and the thin reed of wood she held before her like a sword gave her away her ungodliness. Yes, this was exactly what his mother had warned him of before she died. She'd taught him and made sure he remembered her words before she'd wasted away as righteous punishment for the crime of being what she was. She'd told him many times during those last months that she had no business living. She'd warned him that any man or woman that would not accept a fate such as hers was the true spawn of Satan. And she'd taught him exactly how to purge these children of the Son of Perdition of their sin. She'd told him how it must be done so that he'd be able to deal out justice to any of his siblings or their progeny.

But who would have thought that his own blood that betray him in the end? Who could have imagined that his only daughter would be the one to manifest the evil of his mother? He'd been in shock the night he'd come home to find his home ruined and his second wife terrified as she clung to one of the neighbors for comfort. He'd sent his wife and sons away and listened to what the neighbor and teacher had said about the filthy child who had somehow managed to worm her way into his heart despite his mother's warnings. Hadn't she warned him that the Devil would exploit any weaknesses he showed and that he must therefore always be alert and ready? Hadn't she trusted him above anyone - even his father - with her shameful secret? And yet, despite everything, he'd watched her from afar as she'd advanced in her classes with just the tiniest hint of pride.

Out of all of his children, nieces, and nephews he'd never suspected her of betraying the un-shown love he'd born her. And all the while, Satan had been rearing this child up against him. Even as he raged at the depth of the girl's betrayal, however, he hadn't been able to do what his mother had taught him. He hadn't been ready to send her back to Hell, not without first punishing her for betrayal. And by the time he'd been ready to do what needed to be done, his sons and wife had returned. He'd known right away that Keva wouldn't understand, so he'd locked the girl away.

It seemed ironic that he'd just decided that it was time to finish his task, and this demon, this... unholy creature wearing the skin of a woman should show up to rescue her. The only thing that had kept him from purging the Devil from the woman when he'd first laid eyes on her was his wife's warning that he would lose his sons if he refused her the demon child he'd been planning to destroy anyway. But something about this Amy person's look of righteous fury had snapped his resolve. Now that the foolish woman had given him the chance, he intended to show her how the righteous dealt with demons.

"You are damned, and I intend to purge the evil out of you before sending you back to Hell where you belong!"

"And how do you intend to do that, little man?" the offending woman spat derisively. "Gonna drive that cross of yours through my heart?"

"Oh no, demon," Reggie chuckled darkly, his lips twisting into a cruel smile as he moved towards the closet. "Blanche Pryce taught her son well. I know that killing you isn't enough. The poison in you runs too deep. It needs to be bled out before your sinful flesh burns."

With that he pulled out the hunting knife he'd been carrying in his inner coat pocket - the one his mother had received from a holy man and given to him before dying. "I will purify your evil soul by the grace of God!" He approached her triumphantly, the warm handle of the knife in his right hand and the crucifix in his left. 'First this bitch,' the man thought grimly. 'First I'll bleed this arrogant bitch. Then I'll take care of my demon daughter.' He was relishing the thought of their impending screams when the heat from the knife handle began to burn him.

"No," he glared at the woman smirking at him contemptuously. "You will not win this battle, demon! My mother had this knife blessed by a priest from the Order of the Black Cross. It cannot lose to the likes of you!"

The knife burst into flames suddenly, causing the man to cry out in pain. "You will not win," he screamed, charging at the woman with deadly intent. Just as he reached striking distance, however, the fire became too hot to hold. He dropped the crucifix at once, falling to his knees from the pain of ripping the knife handle away from his flesh. He managed to pull it free with some effort, watching in amazement as it extinguished the second he dropped it and lay innocently shining on the rug.

"My family is full of Magiks," the woman he'd meant to kill began thoughtfully, picking up the knife and turning it slowly in her hands as she spoke. "Did you know that, Reggie? Well, my family on my mother's side anyway. There hasn't been a generation born in my family that did not include at least three witches or wizards. I can trace my ancestry straight back to the Motherland. But unlike you, I know the names of the men and women who used to live in the villages of Liberia, where we were revered as holy. When Fasu kidnapped Abeba and forced her onto one of the slave ships 425 years ago, he didn't do it to get rid of prisoners among the tribes or even to create a vacuum of power. He did it because his uncle had sold him into slavery, and he believed that having her with him on the boat would protect him."

"There have been two traditions in my family since the Middle Passage - we birth early and we die young. Any idea why that would be Reg?" she asked sharply, disintegrating the weapon in her hands and facing him full on. "Because of people like you. You and your stakes and your crosses and your guns and your insistence that you're different than us. That we have to be 'evil' - that we must be demons because we can do something that you can't. Your decision to hate us because you can't understand us. Your rage and your ignorance."

"The righteous must hate the damned," he spat angrily. "God commands it."

"And when was the last time you talked to God, Reginald Pryce? Did he come to you in a dream last night and tell you to cut your daughter open and bleed her dry before burning her corpse? Did you think that somehow that wouldn't count as murder?"

He glared at the woman furiously, cradling his injured hand. "I don't have to answer to you, witch."

"Petrificus Totalis," she said, watching with some satisfaction when the man went rigid and fell onto his back. "Now, let me show you a bit of what I know of the Bible." She ran her hand over the man's melted palm, watching the flesh harden into a scar resembling the handle of the knife. She then took a careful step back, surveying her handiwork, before muttering the counter-curse. He clambered to his feet, touching his palm in disbelief.

"You healed my hand," he muttered, completely bewildered. "Why would you do that?"

"'In that way, you will heap burning coals on their heads'," she answered, smiling sweetly at him. The man flinched, his eyes widening in dread and realization. Then he fled the house, his howl of anguish following him out the door. Amy sighed and turned to his wife, unfreezing her.

"You'd do well to remember this, Keva."

"Remember how you threatened and attacked my husband?" the woman growled.

"Remember what your husband intended to do to his own flesh and blood. Remember the other children that have been entrusted to your care. And remember that Areyn is one of those children," Amy replied. "If you shut her out, there will come a time when she won't want to be one of your stepchildren anymore."

"You come in here threatening to destroy my family, force me to give her to you, and then dare lecture me on that... that demon? As far as _I'm_ concerned, you can have her! She and her evil are all yours now. She's nothing more than an embarrassment and an abomination to us. Take her and go."

"Be very careful, Keva. The girl's ties to this life are much stronger than yours. There are some in this family that will not give her up so easily."

"If you are referring to my sons, they will do what they're told. They will soon learn that we know what's best for them."

"You're a fool to think you can do such a thing to them, but have it your way. I will tell you this, though. **All** of your stepchildren are being watched closely for signs of magic. But more importantly, they - and you - are being watched. If any harm should befall them, we will know. I would suggest that you and your husband have a long talk about that before he sees the boys again."

The doorbell rang suddenly, making the squat woman jump. "That would be the children's grandmother," Amy said as she opened the door.

"Where did Reggie just run off to?" Jacqueline asked, looking baffled. The sight of her daughter's replacement looking pale and close to fainting was vaguely satisfying, but it did nothing to answer her growing curiosity.

"You may take the children now," Areyn's new guardian said, calling for the boys. The three crept down the stairs, carrying the youngest and looking apprehensive. They all seemed to latch onto the familiar sight of their grandmother, however, and rushed to her.

"They may need to stay with you overnight, Miss J," Amy mentioned nonchalantly as they passed her. She touched Lewis' arm briefly as he passed, but made no other move to interrupt them as they fled the house. "I will be taking your stepdaughter out of this house in a few minutes. Stay out of our way." With that, Amy turned on her heel and left to find the child she'd now be raising.

----------

"Areyn, honey?" She found the child standing in the middle of her room, looking lost and helpless. "What's the matter?"

"I... I don't know where my mother put my suitcase," she said haltingly. "I tried to pack, but... I don't know where-"

"Hush, child," the woman sighed, pulling the girl into a hug. "I want to show you a little magic. Would you like to see?" she offered to distract the girl from her misery. Areyn nodded slightly. "Accio, carpet bag," Amy said. Seconds later, the bag she'd brought with her on this trip was hovering serenely in front of the pair.

"But how... When you came in you didn't..."

"As you get older, you're going to find that more powerful witches and wizards are able to perform magic without speaking aloud. It gives us a great advantage over our enemies," Amy smiled, kneeling so they could talk face to face. "You're also going to find that words hurt a hell of a lot more than they should." Areyn looked at her guardian carefully, nodding in understanding.

"Now," Amy continued briskly, standing up to allow the girl time to wipe her face, "here are your bags." She presented two miniature footlocker trunks the size of toy trains to the child, who blinked in astonishment.

"I can't use those, Aunt Amy," Areyn giggled, pointing to the multiple piles of clothes on her bed.

"You're right," Amy smiled, looking the two suitcases over speculatively. "So, we'll just have to enlarge them, won't we?" A wave of her wand and the trunks grew almost as fast as Areyn's liquid brown eyes. "Emigro!" The clothing and books the girl had piled around the small room began whizzing into them obediently.

"That is a lovely mirror," the woman commented, noticing that the child was touching the frame of it wistfully.

"Yeah," Areyn jumped, spinning around guiltily. "My Mom and I used to... It..." She gasped with delight as the mirror and the bookshelf under it both jerked into the air, shrinking down to fit in with the rest of her luggage.

"Is that everything, Areyn?" Amy asked, looking around. The girl nodded; amazed that only things left in her room were her bed and dresser.

"Good, 'cause I think you're going to like the bedroom set I have for you in your new room better." Another silent command and the girl's things folded and arranged themselves neatly in the footlockers. Then they closed and shrunk back to their original size. Aunt Amy plucked the two bags from midair and handed them to the girl. "See? Easy as that." She took them out of the girl's still open hands and packed them into her carpet bag as if this were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Now, we need to get you something to eat before the flight."

"Can we go to McDonald's," Areyn asked hopefully.

"McDonald's," Amy exclaimed, "I said we need to get you some _food_, child. Preferably real food. I'm thinking maybe... the Old Country Buffet."

The girl's eyes shone. "I haven't been there since before- n-not in a long time."

"Then it's all settled," Amy nodded. The two made their way to the stairs, but Areyn paused just before heading down, looking towards her brothers' room.

"I told your brother that I'd look after you, honey," Amy said gently. She watched her young charge's struggle patiently; knowing that right now, this moment, was the toughest the girl had faced throughout this whole ordeal.

"My Mom told me to protect them," the girl admitted baldly.

"Then you'll have to hurry up and become a good witch then," the woman smiled gently. "Your brothers will be waiting for you when you're finished."

"What if they're not?" the girl blurted out, a gleam of panic in her eyes.

"Have your brothers ever lied to you?"

"Yeah. All the time," she answered, clearly despairing.

"...when it was important?" The girl stopped, obviously brought up short by the question. "It's going to be alright, little girl. _I_ promise."

Areyn nodded finally, walking down the stairs and out the door as if the matter were settled once and for all. Amy watched her go, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride in the young witch she would be raising.

"You will make a fine witch, Areyn," she whispered fervently.

---------

"Christopher? Where are you? I- ah there you are," Sandra laughed. "How goes the cleaning?"

"Just finished, Mom," the boy smiled. "I just laid out my Tarot Rugs; they're showing good things for me," he added, pointing to the vividly colorful Prince of Swords and Two of Disks looking benignly up at the two from the floor. These rugs had been a godsend for Chris' mother, as their fringes tended to find any missing socks, toys, or books that the boy might miss in cleaning his room.

The place looked almost exactly like his old room. Already he had rearranged his mother's organized stacks of toys, trinkets and baubles to suit his tastes. The shelves hanging on the walls were filled to capacity with a hodgepodge of both Reg and Magik playthings.

"You've definitely inherited your father's organization skills," Sandra grinned, rescuing a transformer from being squashed by the Merlin doll that had watched over the boy since he was a baby.

"Mom," Chris whined, taking back his toy, "I like Optimus Prime there, he keeps Merlin in check."

"Does he now?" the woman laughed, relinquishing the toy with a flourish. "That's an interesting tarot card reading for today. Change and upheaval."

"Yeah," Chris grinned excitedly. "I think it means-"

"I have a present for you," Sandra broke in over one of her son's infamous tarot card scenarios. "I'm a bit late, I know, but I think it's worth having." She reached out into the hallway, retrieving a large, rectangular package and placed it on the boy's bed with pride.

"It's only been a day, Mom," Chris grinned as he tore off the wrapping paper. "But thanks! I was-"

He stopped suddenly, looking at the gift with a slight frown. "Um... What is it?" he asked at last. It was a rhetorical question; he already knew what it was. The mirror she'd given him was beautifully made, set in a frame of golden wood overlaid with flowing silver runes. But why would his mother give him a mirror for his birthday? It was true that he wasn't always the most kempt boy; but the full-length mirror in the hallway was his usual method for fixing this. "Is it the hair?" Chris smirked finally, running his hands through his habitually untidy dark brown hair. "Is this a gag about-"

"No, sweetie," his mother sighed, and Chris noticed that she looked slightly crestfallen at his cynical attitude towards the gift. "I just finished making this mirror. It's very unique, literally one-of-a-kind. In fact, it's so unique I haven't figured out what to call it yet. I was thinking maybe 'The Pen Pal Portal'..." she trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Chris leaned over the mirror thoughtfully, watching his reflection as he worked through his mother's words. "Pen Pal... You mean I can go see her with this?" he asked excitedly.

"Not exactly," Sandra grinned. "This mirror will let you see and talk to her. It's more like a telephone than a regular portkey. But I used a few of the same enchantments. I forged the connection using your friend's tears," she added. The ten-year-old went and pulled his friend's letter out of his drawer and automatically noticed that the words on the page looked less smudged.

"You can only use this mirror to talk to her," his mother continued. "I've made the runes and incantations very specific. All-"

"This is perfect, Mom," he exclaimed, hugging his mother.

"Thank me after you hear the rules," Sandra told him sternly, "'cause I won't have you taking advantage of it. I made this mirror because I don't believe in keeping friends apart. But if I catch you abusing it or using it in any wrong-"

"I understand," the boy nodded gravely.

"Okay," his mother nodded as well, looking relieved. "Now, you turn it on by touching the frame here," she instructed, pressing the boy's hand to the frame gently. The mirror flashed as he touched it; then disappeared. The place where the rectangle used to be was filled instead with shimmering, silvery waves that brought to mind the tide coming on a moonlit night.

"Hmm... She must not be in her room right now. The connection will only work if you're both in your rooms. Once you've made contact, her mirror will take on these runes and she should be able to contact you in the same way. When you're finished using it, say 'sincerely' and the spell will end.

"Sincerely," the boy repeated softly, watching the shimmering surface of his new mirror revert back to quicksilver.

"It acts just like a Reg mirror otherwise," Sandra smiled at his amazed reflection. Chris was in awe of his mother's accomplishment. Both of his parents were well known for their proficiency in making wizard items. His father supplied some of the best staves, pikes, and shields available. The weapons that came out of his forge were famous for their self-repairing nature and resistance to fire - even dragon fire - among other things. But his mother claimed equal fame for an uncanny knack for charming common household items - rings, trinkets, and clothing - with unbreakable protection spells. Most of the people they did business with inquired after the children of these two powerful Magiks, waiting to see if they would develop their parents' talents.

But the fact that his mother would not only conceive and create such a priceless commodity, but entrust it to his care, was humbling. "Thank you, Mom," he said sincerely.

"You're very welcome, sweetheart. Just... be careful with it. I've never made anything like this mirror, so I don't have a replacement for it should something happen to it. And if it's damaged or broken..."

"I'll take extra special care of it."

I know you will, honey," Sandra smiled, kissing the boy's forehead before leaving him with his present.

----------

"How do you like it?" Amy smiled. She wasn't surprised at the girl's inability to answer right away. The woman was actually quite proud of how well her conversion of this storage room to a bedroom had gone. The rooms of her grandfather's ranch were spacious to begin with, as was the ranch itself, which she had inherited when he passed away. She'd taken care to ensure that the girl would be comfortable during her stay. A four-poster canopy bed stood against the back wall, its wooden frame matching not only that of the hardwood floor and woodworks, but that of the large dresser and desk on the walls to either side of it. The dresser stood next to a walk-in closet big enough to hang up twice the meager amount of clothes the child had brought with her and still have room for more. The rest of the room was bare, but her charge was too busy staring in astonishment at the walls, which were changing color around her.

"I didn't know your favorite color, so I've enchanted the walls to cycle through a few different ones. Once you've settled on the one you'd like, I'll-"

"This is amazing," the girl breathed. "Can I just... I mean... Would it be okay-"

"If you prefer the rotation, we can certainly leave it as is," Amy nodded, understanding at once. She'd chosen soft colors for this room; tan, light golden, peach, pink, and a blue so pale that it easily faded back to the tan again. The overall effect seemed to have the child mesmerized, which pleased her guardian to no end. "Am I safe in assuming that this is acceptable?"

"I get to stay here?" she whispered as if afraid this miracle of hers might be taken away should she name it too loudly.

"Of course, child," Amy shrugged. "Where did you think you'd be staying? Certainly not in my room," the woman added as if this settled the matter. "Now, there are a few ground rules we'll have to go over once you've settled in, but I think they can wait until morning. It's been a long day for the both of us. How anyone could stand six hours in the air on such an indirect flight path is beyond me." Without prelude, the woman rooted through her bag and retrieved the girl's things. With a tired flick of her wand, the child was unpacked. "There." Then she noticed that her charge was speechless once more. "This is going to seem like normal after awhile, little girl. You'll learn how to do all of these spells and once you start school at Northloft." She watched the girl's eyes drop from the walls at last.

"Am I... evil?" she blurted out suddenly.

"Do you feel evil, Areyn?" Before the child could answer, the doorbell rang. "That must be Sandy. I won't make you come meet her tonight as it's been a long day and she stops by almost daily anyway. You just think about my question. And while you're at it, you can look around your new room. I'll be back in a little while."

"Okay," the girl nodded, watching her aunt sweep out of the room with a grace and air of confidence that reminded the girl heart-wrenchingly of her mother. Was she evil? It was the question that had plagued her for weeks now. Her father obviously thought she was, but what did he know? Even when her mother was alive, the man had never taken much of an interest in her or her brothers. They'd often felt as if he regarded them as mouths to feed rather than his own flesh and blood. Her mother had been careful to teach her children about the love of Christ, and for the life of her, she wished that her mother was here now to guide her.

"Or maybe it's better this way," she mumbled dejectedly. The thought of her mother cringing from her or sending her away was too much to take. How would her real mother - the woman who'd raised her, loved her – have reacted to this situation? The girl sighed, unable to think of anything that might have pointed to what her mother might have done had she known. Putting the question aside for the time being, Areyn looked through her drawers to find a pair of pajamas before pulling her overstuffed desk chair over to the mirror now hanging on the wall near her door.

Her mother had told her often how old and fragile this mirror was. The frame was a three and a half foot tall oval of dark, rich wood, pitted from multiple handlings over the generations. The mirror itself had a small divide circling its surface, making a frame within a frame. Her brothers had often mentioned how strange it looked, but Areyn had always loved it. Late at night, her mother would come into her room and the two would talk about the worlds that might be waiting on the other side of that mirror. Both had believed it to be a doorway to another world. The girl had carried those precious memories with her throughout the last stages of the terminal and extremely aggressive cancer that had eaten her mother alive. Through the funeral that her father had actually shown up late for and left his five children grieving at. Through her father's wedding mere months after the death of her mother. Through a year of refusing to hate her father for betraying the memory of her mother with a woman that wasn't fit to tie her mother's shoes. Through a year of struggling not to judge her father's wife.

Now her father and stepmother were over two thousand miles away, on the east coast. They'd sent her here because they hadn't known what to do with her. They hadn't even bothered to tell her the terms of the contract they'd used to get rid of her. Her brothers, the only people that mattered to her, were also gone. They were likely being taught to hate and despise her. That was all well and good for the three she'd grown up with; they hated that bitch and their father almost as much as she did. But what about Matthew? Would they stay close enough to him to teach him the truth about her? And what truth was that? That she wasn't evil after all?

"This sucks," the girl muttered at last, rubbing her temples to stave off the awful headache she had from her first plane ride.

"A... Areyn?" an unfamiliar voice asked. The girl pulled her head out of her hands immediately, looking for the source of the sound. It didn't take long to find it. The mirror she'd been gazing into just moments ago was gone. In its place was something that looked like waves of glistening water and light. It was beautiful.

"What is this?" she asked standing up to get a closer look.

"Is this Areyn Pryce?" the voice asked.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Christopher Cordova. Can you see me?"

"Wait, are you my pen pal?"

"Yes. Listen, I know this is a shock, but it's really me. My Mom made me a mirror for my birthday, one that's supposed to let of hear and _see_ each other, but it's not working right."

The girl moved forward, leaning on the frame of the mirror and squinting as if she might be able to see the boy through the waves if she just looked hard enough. The moment she touched the frame, however, a bright flash blotted out her vision. Her fingers began to burn where they were touching the wood; she yanked them away to find that a series of strange symbols were being burned into the frame.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to my mirror," the girl blinked, feeling a surge of anger at the desecration of the only connection to her mother she had left. "You'd better-"

"It's okay," Chris insisted. "I think the spell needs to be embedded on your side as well to work correctly."

"It's ruining my mother's mirror," Areyn cried in outrage. "Make it stop! You make it stop! Y-"

Another brilliant flash of light stopped her demand as both children cried out in pain. When it was over, they stood staring at each other, blinking stars out of their eyes. On one side of the mirror there stood a little boy with a mischievous grin playing on his round face. His silver-blue eyes were kind as he looked at his pen pal for the first time. On the other side was a little girl with sunken cheeks and over-bright brown eyes. Her clothes were almost a size too big for her, and she had the wobbly look of the undernourished.

"Hi," Chris said at last, the mischief melting out of his features.

"Hi," Areyn responded, a nervous smile on her lips.

* * *

Thank you for sticking around to see chapter two! I'm not very good at author's notes, but there are a few things that I should probably mention now that the story's truly getting underway. 

1.'Emigro' is the name of a relocation charm used in Anna's 'Jewel of the Nile', part two of her amazing trio of fanfiction stories featuring Hermione Granger as the star of the show. I highly recommend it all three stories (Roman Holiday, Jewel of the Nile, and Last Tango in Paris), as well as the side-stories she's cooked up for the characters at La Societe des Femmes Dangereuses. Special thanks to Ms. Anna for allowing me to use her handy spell in my writing.

2. The 'Middle Passage' is the name given to the part of the African slave route carrying the slaves from Africa to the Americas. You can find more about it at Wikipedia: The Free Encyclopedia. Please bear with me on the briefly introduced 'Five Families'. There will be more information given through the story (and future author's notes if need be) in the chapters to come.

4. Special thanks to all those that have helped me on this endeavor thus far. More to follow! Please review, I'm always up for some constructive criticism.


	3. Chapter 3: Every New Beginning

Chapter 3: Every New Beginning...

One...

Two...

Three...

Areyn gritted her teeth, partly in strain and partly in satisfaction, and pushed at the weighted metal board once again, using her fatigued leg muscles and the force of her determined, gasping count to make it through her reps. There was a great deal of satisfaction in the simple act of marshalling her exhausted muscles into submission. She'd been at this for almost an hour now - systematically working every muscle group in her body to make them stronger. It wasn't an action born of necessity as it had been when Dr. Rankin had assigned it back when she'd first arrived in July. No, this was purely habit now, a habit born of nine months of daily practice. Even after her strength had returned to her aunt's approval she'd continued her daily ritual, moving her exercise to after school when classes began. The girl was stronger than she'd ever been in her life; with tiny whipcords of muscle running along her lean body.

A drop of sweat chose that moment to run into her eye, distracting her from her workout. Angrily swiping at her forehead and face with a towel, she switched machines in the gym her magical guardian had created under her spacious ranch house. She was pushing herself too hard; she knew it as well as she knew that her burning muscles would remind her of this workout for the next several days. But no matter how much she tried to throw herself into her daily ritual, she could not chase the phantom voice of her teacher from her mind. Nor would her treacherous mind allow her to forget that her aunt was currently at school, taking yet another afternoon off from the antique shop she owned and operated, and receiving the latest in a series of complaints that had nothing to do with the girl's conduct and everything to do with her teacher's narrow-minded insistence that the Philadelphian join the ranks of Christ the Redeemer Christian Academy's social strata.

"No one to blame but me," the girl growled acidly, just imagining what that... that woman must be saying right now. In the months since school started she'd learned what a real social hierarchy was. She'd thought she'd known before, having survived being on the bottom rung of her old school's, but she'd been horribly, desperately wrong. The children in her class were close-knit to the point of being xenophobic. Her introduction into the class had gone smoothly enough, but once it became clear that she was not interested in becoming a token celebrity for the most popular of them or a 'pet' for the vindictive 'middle class', she'd turned into something lower than the least popular of her class: she'd become the hated and dreaded 'unknown'.

She rather liked this status as it left her free from the constant bickering and petty squabbles that came with any fifth grade class but seemed somehow twice as bad without the distractions of the big city to detract from them. There were no gun shootings in the schools here, no five car pile-ups to put the news of Hannah Briggs moonlight meeting with Carl Sampson - a known loner whom she should not have even known due to her status - into perspective. The actual social structure often put her in mind of the Indian caste system, that is, born into one's caste with next to no hope of ever moving into a higher one until your next life cycle. And since she didn't believe in reincarnation, the prospects looked grim for the tiny-minded students around her.

Not that any of them saw it that way.

Sometimes she entertained herself by imagining these insular students when they left home. The thought of prissy little Susanne Puntel floundering through her freshmen year at college after years of almost godlike worship 'back home' was a particularly satisfying one at times like these. But even as the image formed, she knew nothing would ever come of it. Blond as she was, Susanne was smart enough not to roam too far from her powerbase. It was sad really, to know that most of her classmates would spend their lives caught in the system for fear of trying some other form of living. As sorry as she felt for the other students, her generosity and understanding did not quite extend to the point of forgiveness for the taunts, insults, and silent repugnance that followed her through the hallowed halls of the school. Forgiveness may be divine, but she was only human.

"Ignorant bitch," the girl muttered darkly, using her anger to push herself even harder, this time on the rowing machine. Mrs. Denman epitomized Chinook small town living. She'd been born and raised here along side most of the permanent residents of this city, attending the local schools before heading off to the University of Montana Northern campus to earn her teaching degree. Since then, she'd married her high school sweetheart and had done everything in her power to uphold the two Chinook ways: tradition over innovation and maintaining the status quo. As such, she had no idea how to handle her newest pupil, and spent every opportunity trying to convince Amy Livingston, another permanent resident of Chinook, to make her niece stop behaving 'so anti-socially'. Areyn shuddered whenever she imagined being forced to get in line by her formidable aunt and thanked God that the woman seemed to harbor a deep-running distaste for Chinook living in general. Still, if this was anything like what the next phase of her life, this 'Northloft' held for her, the prospects once again looked bleak for her.

And what the heck kind of a name was Northloft anyway? Was it Northloft School? Northloft Academy? Northloft Hunting Lodge? If this mystical school for Magik training didn't even have the decency to name itself properly, what educational value could the place actually have?

The girl thought nervously of the letter that had arrived two weeks ago, by a pigeon of all things. Apparently this was a normal occurrence, judging by her aunt's reaction to her frantic attempts to escape the disease-ridden bird. She shuddered at the memory, still hearing Aunt Amy laughing hysterically and explaining that pigeons were the common way to send Magik mail, though most Magiks just used the normal postal system. As if she would have known that, spending an almost magic-free year under the watchful eye of her strict aunt! She was barely allowed out of the woman's sight, even working a few days a week at Amy's Niceties.

Ironically, it was her sheltered life that made the contents of the letter tucked away in her bureau so disheartening. According to the letter, she'd been conditionally accepted into the Northloft program. She was to report to Great Falls on Saturday, May 8th at 8 o'clock sharp to take the official entrance exam and - pending the outcome - receive further instructions from the school. As for the test itself, she was only to bring two #2 pencils, a pen and an eraser. No calculators, no wands; there was a whole list of things she was not allowed to bring, and the letter insisted that there would be heavy penalties for any contraband item found. Okay, so nothing but writing utensils, she could live with that.

But the letter had been conspicuously silent on the topic that she did want to know more about - what the going to be on the damn test?! Lord knew she knew nothing about magic, and she couldn't for the life of her imagine what else an admission test for a magic school could contain. And her aunt was being maddeningly silent on this issue, so she had nothing to go on. Given the choice between attending this mysterious magic school and moving on to junior high with her current class, she'd take the magic school hands down. But how could she possibly hope to compete with people that had been exposed to magic since birth?? How was she supposed to-?

The girl sat up suddenly, the 75 pounds she'd loaded into the low back machine slamming into her at the action. The sharp pain in her back only served to jolt her more firmly out of her self pity. Since when was she one for such depressing thoughts? Her mother had often called her a little ray of sunshine before the cancer had claimed her. She'd never worried about friends or teachers or even school so seriously before. Reluctantly, she forced her brain to turn to the one admission she'd been unwilling to acknowledge during the school year from hell.

"I'm lonely," she muttered dully. The admission hurt more than the insistent throbbing in her back. Her shoulders slumped in defeat under the weigh of it, but she forced herself to start stretching. There was nothing more to be gained by torturing her already fatigued muscles today. Beside, she reasoned, there was no point in getting a charley horse on top of everything else today. Anger bubbled through her unexpectedly at that thought. Why today of all days? Why did it all have to come crashing down on her on her birthday?? She'd been so careful to keep her fury and despair in check all year, why did she have to come apart now?

The girl grumbled darkly, her muscles moving through her self-fashioned cool-down automatically as she went over the facts of her situation. As expected, her father and his wife had spent the better part of the year cutting her off from her brothers, going so far as to add a new clause to the mysterious 'contract' they'd signed the summer before - a 'no contact' clause. Since then, the most she'd received was a handful of letters from the boys, sent surreptitiously by her grandmother.

But even those detailed letters could not replace the simple satisfaction of arguing with them over something stupid as they'd done so often back when life was simple. It was a bitter irony to realize how much she'd taken her brothers for granted. Who would have thought she'd ever miss sharing inside jokes or the songs her real mother had taught them with the only people on the planet that could appreciate them? Who would have thought such trivial things would matter so much to her; would have to be tucked away at the bottom of her heart to be pulled out and treasured when no one could see her tears? The whole thing was so stupid and maddening! She brushed her hands over her eyes furiously, refusing to cry over what should have been an old wound by now.

She'd always had them to keep her company. And as long as she'd had them, what had her lack of friends mattered? They were the Pryce children and they'd always been close. Even if they seemed to be constantly at each other's throats to the untrained eye, there had always been a deep-seated affection among them. Now that she'd lost that bond, she wasn't quite sure what to do with herself. The idiots in her class were not appealing as friendship material. There was Chris, of course. They'd talked from time to time since the day she'd arrived in Montana, but even their friendship couldn't fill the void left by the loss of her brothers. That only left the people at her aunt's shop as potential companions, the youngest of which was currently a junior at the University of Montana, double majoring in architecture and business while pursing a minor in philosophy. She doubted any of them had time to listen to listen to a whining ten-year-old.

"Eleven," she corrected quietly, sighing as she started cleaning up her private gym. Today _was _her birthday after all. "Happy birthday; here's another pointless lecture," she added bitterly. It wasn't fair that she'd have to sit through yet another of her aunt's 'debriefings'. While her guardian did not share her teacher's enthusiasm about integration, she usually went over the things that were said in these parent-teacher conferences. It usually only lasted about 15 minutes, but considering that there was never anything knew to be said, the girl hardly saw the point. She supposed it was a means of punishment for making the woman take yet more time out of her busy schedule. In the time she'd been in Montana, she'd learned that her aunt was a highly efficient and organized woman. She supposed that one would have to be to endure all that the woman had in her lifetime. It made the girl want to make things as easy on her aunt as possible. But she couldn't think of anything she could do at this point to help. Even if she'd somehow managed to bury her oddball personality deep enough inside that she could fit in with her classmates, they weren't likely to accept her this late in the game.

"Areyn, come here, please." The girl cringed, looking towards the stairs.

"I'm coming, Aunt Amy," she called, heading for the stairs. It was always this way when her guardian used that tone of voice: she was torn between hiding to prolong whatever might be coming or going to the woman to get it over with. Usually the latter won out; her mother hadn't raised a coward after all. Every once in a while she could not resist the first instinct, however.

"Areyn," the woman's voice floated into the gym as if she'd caught this last thought. It was unnerving when the woman did that. She honestly was not sure if the woman could read her mind or not, but it was still scary.

She reached the top stair and took a moment to look herself over before heading into the house. She looked a mess. The black training set her aunt had bought for her was soaked through, and she was still sweating heavily, but it would have to do. 'Maybe I can wheedle a soak in the Springs after this.' This slightly happier idea lifting her sadness after such depressing thoughts, she opened the magical door that would lead her into the living room and froze on the verge of stepping in.

There they were, as if conjured out of her thoughts. Her brothers were all huddled in a corner of a living room that was much too large to match the frame of the ranch house. They were mostly ogling the Spartan room, taking in the simple but highly comfortable furniture and the hardwood floor. She couldn't blame them actually. There was little else in the room, yet the 2 couches, 3 high-backed chairs, and coffee tables filled the massive room and matched the woman's personality perfectly. There was a stark beauty to this house that Areyn had always found endearing. Her aunt was a rare specimen of witch after all, barely using the mystical gifts that were her birthright.

"Have ya been in the gym all this time, girl?" Sandy Wilkins - Aunt Amy's best friend and almost constant house guest - gasped, her Irish accent thickening with her ire. "You've just barely recovered yer strength from that nasty flu last month!"

The girl barely heard the reprimand; she was so engrossed in memorizing the nearly forgotten forms of her brothers. They all looked more serious than she remembered. Lewis looked especially grim. She thought he might be about to say something, but Aunt Amy spoke up suddenly.

"Come in, little girl, and happy birthday," the woman said warmly, drawing her niece's attention. These simple words seemed to break the spell for all of the children, and the next thing Areyn knew, she was enveloped in a number of hugs and they were all talking at once. Somewhere in the midst of all this she managed to find out what their letters had been unable to convey.

"She did _what_?" she ground out at a particularly vicious comment from Victor. That seemed to stop them all in their tracks.

"It's true, sis. They're doing everything they can to… I don't know. It's like they're trying to erase you or something!"

"Just like they did mom," the girl said sorrowfully. "But… How did you guys end up here anyway? I thought you weren't allowed any contact with me."

"Fuck them," the only sibling that outranked her in age growled angrily. The other boys chuckled nervously at the swearword, still not comfortable with his turn for the mature. Areyn simply goggled, suddenly grateful for her guardian's absence. She wasn't quite sure what the woman who'd taken her in thought of swearing, but she wasn't anxious to find out either.

"Lewis, you know you're not supposed to swear! Mom said-"

"Mom's dead, Areyn. And she left us with this mess!"

"Don't you _dare_ act like Mom died on purpose," she snapped furiously. "She couldn't have known this would happen."

Silence met this outburst. Then the fourteen-year-old growled low in his throat and answered his sister's unspoken challenge. "It's not pretending she died on purpose to stop acting like she'd still alive to help us! Things have been hell for us while you've been here in sunny Montana living the good life and-"

"What good life? Don't think that you're the only ones having a hard time of this, you jerk!" The girl could all but feel steam pouring out of her ears as she faced her older brother. She honestly couldn't believe that she'd spent the better part of the year missing this asshole.

"Guys, Mom wouldn't have wanted this," an unusually quiet voice piped up into the tense silence. Both siblings looked at Mackenzie with something akin to shame.

"Look, you tell me what's been happening in Philly and I'll tell you what I've been doing. But," she added, venom suffusing her voice, "don't you dare assume that I've had it easy this year. It's been hell being away from you guys." She admitted this last and plopped down on the floor, studying her hands with interest. After that things went a little more smoothly as the boys explained the lengths Keva and her father were going through to remove the memory of her presence from the house. They'd done everything short of moving and still her brothers would mention her at random intervals. The results of these 'slips' had put Jerome in the hospital with a broken arm. Lewis seemed the most determined to defy his father and stepmother.

"Look, you've got to stop this, Lewis," the girl sighed, knowing that she'd likely not be able to dissuade her headstrong brother, but also knowing that she had to try. "One of you is going to get seriously hurt if you keep fighting them."

"And what am I supposed to do? Let them pretend like-"

"Yes! For God's sake, Lewis, they broke Jerome's arm over this! That should tell you how serious they are." The boy being talked about cringed, rubbing his arm in memory. He hadn't been trying to defy anyone. He'd simply asked Keva how to spell his sister's name for a school project. He doubted he would have ended up with more than a beating, but his father had been home that night…

"Please, just let them forget me if they want to. I don't give a flying fig Newton about them anyway," the girl continued, trying for humor. "As long as you four remember me, Dad and Keva can take a flying leap!"

"You don't mind being forgotten?" Mackenzie blinked, looking both angry and mortified.

"Why should I care?" the girl burst out, fighting for a steady voice. "If our good-for-nothing father hates me enough to take it out on you guys, then it's better if I just disappear! He shouldn't be taking it out on you guys anyway," she mumbled dully. "_I'm_ the witch! _I'm _the one that's evil!"

"Shut up," Mackenzie said fiercely.

"Well, it's the truth, isn't it?" she snarled, oblivious to her brother's mounting rage. "If he wants some kinda revenge, he should just come on over here and-"

"SHUT UP!" Mackenzie shouted, scaring all the children. "Don't you dare call yourself evil just because our dad has 'mom' issues! If he'd ever given a damn about any of us, he might have known that one of us was special. Mom would have tanned your hide if she'd heard you just now."

"I didn't ask to be special," the girl retorted angrily, feeling her control slipping. These were the things she hadn't dared share with anyone; the source of the nightmares she still had almost nightly. Thoughts that her father might have had the right idea in wanting her dead; thoughts of what her real mother might have said or done had she known often plagued her in the still of the night. Now they were tumbling from her mouth for the first time since she'd been forced from her home. It seemed that her brother's words could still snap her restraint, probably more so because of their time apart.

"And it doesn't have anything to do with his 'mom' issues! I looked up that Bible verse he made me memorize. I don't have to want to die to know that God doesn't approve of me… And neither would Mom…"

"How do you know?" Lewis asked quietly.

"Mom was a devout Christian. How could she not have done the same thing as dad once she knew what I was?"

"Because, unlike Dad, Mom actually loved you," Lewis answered sagely. "She never would have left you to Dad's mercy. She never would have forced you out of our lives like that bitch has. And she never would have abandoned you, even if she'd had to send you to Aunt Amy during the school year."

"I wish I was so sure," the girl growled around the sudden lump in her throat. "I think I miss her more than ever out here 'cause there's nothing to remind me of her. But sometimes I'm _really_ glad she died before any of this happened. I mean, what if-"

"If you ever wish our mother dead again, I'll slap the taste out your mouth," the oldest child growled solemnly.

"What are you talking about? I didn't-"

"If you ever wish our mother dead again, I'll slap the taste out your mouth," Lewis repeated in that same calm tone. Absolute silence descended on the room. None of Angela Christine Pryce's children were given to idle threats. Their mother had taught them all to watch what they said by holding them to their threats against each other and punishing them when they'd failed to carry out those threats. But what had all the children in shock was the seriousness of this threat. It was the kind of thing their mother would have said if one of her children had roused her anger.

"I'm… I'm sorry." Areyn didn't know what else to say. She could feel tears threaten and was torn between letting them drop or holding them back as she had all day.

"Ara, you can't let them confuse you like this! You know how much she loved us! Do you really think she'd treat her family like this?"

"I don't know, Lew! I just don't know anymore," the girl cried. "I want to believe that she'd never do this to me, but… Nothing like this has ever happened to us. How am I supposed to know if she could have still loved me if she'd known?"

"Don't be like that," Jerome pleaded, placing a brotherly arm around her shoulders. "She loved all of us. You know she wouldn't have cared."

"We're family," Mackenzie assured her with a confidence that she was suddenly, horribly jealous of. "No matter what, she wouldn't have abandoned you or stopped loving you. Ever."

"Thanks guys," the girl whimpered softly, hugging Jerome tightly before releasing him. "Listen, I gotta run and get ready for dinner. Aunt Amy'll skin me if I come to the table in these sweaty clothes."

"Well, you do stink," Lewis grinned, letting his sister escape for now. The haunted, hunted look that still lingered in her eyes worried him, however. Those were not the eyes of a pre-teen; they were the eyes of someone much older, who'd endured more than they should have to.

"This isn't over," he added seriously, hating how easily that look came back.

"Got it," she confirmed weakly running for her room. On the way she stopped by one of the two kitchen doors facing her. "Can I use the springs before dinner, Aunt Amy?"

"There'll be time to play in there with your brothers later. They'll be here until Sunday evening," the woman said matter-of-factly. "Dinner's almost ready, so you'd better clean up."

"Yes, ma'am," Areyn nodded, her head reeling. Today was Friday, so that meant... Wait, she was going to hang out with them all weekend? The part of her that had finally admitted to her loneliness was ecstatic, but mostly she felt wary. If spending time with the boys meant more talks like the one they'd just had, then maybe this wasn't such a good idea. The girl sighed heavily as she headed off for a shower before dinner, wondering if she'd ever feel optimistic again.

----------

"What?" the girl groaned, knowing what was coming next. After dinner she'd agreed to show her brothers around the house to get out of doing dishes. Since then none of the boys - not even her baby brother - seemed able to pick their jaws up off the floor. They were currently lounging around in her room catching up. But their refusal to accept what was right before their eyes was starting to embarrass her.

"You live in a house that's at least twice as big as its foundation. What do ya mean 'what'? Or are you really that jaded?"

"It's not 'jaded' if I don't freak out in the house I've been living in for almost a year, Lew! Yes, the inside is bigger than the outside, but that's nothing. You should see Ms. Sandy's place. It's like... Remember the end of Labyrinth? The part where the girl goes to save her brother and ends up in that room full of stairs?"

"Yeah," Mackenzie nodded thoughtfully before blinking. "Wait, you mean it-"

"Ye- well, no..." the girl trailed off. "The place is a bit too pink for that. But there are stairways everywhere." She went on to describe Ms. Sandy's house, talking about the swirls, spirals, and twists of a number of the stairways. Some form rectangles and others double back on each other in sideways squares. By the time she explained how the only staircase that went in a logical upward slope seemed to reach straight into the sky, and the lack of doors, windows, or even a roof to that house, the boys were grateful for the over-large, but still regular-looking house they were staying at for the weekend, though Jerome was determined to see the 'stair house', as he had deemed it, for himself.

In the meantime, Mackenzie was to busy going over the house layout to worry too much about other houses. His sister's room was at the back, far end of the house, and was big enough to hold all of the children comfortably on cozy little cots that were the size of twin beds. A door led to the bathroom, which could have fit two of theirs back home. She'd shown them the shower, which was a giant glass contraption in the middle of the room. Once you closed the door, a stream of nice hot water would shoot up at you from the circle of tiny spouts on the floor. His sister claimed that you never had to adjust the water temperature because the shower always knew. He couldn't wait to test this theory tomorrow morning. The rest of the rooms were standard. The dining room was connected to the kitchen by at least two entrances, meaning that the group could technically get from the bedroom to the kitchen without using the hallway that spanned the length of the house.

Across from Areyn's room lay the laundry and storage room, followed by what his sister had referred to as a sitting room. When he'd asked about it, she'd told him that the cozy room went mostly unused because they never had visitors other than Ms. Sandy. This was connected to a simple hallway that he found interesting. The hall led from the front door to a blank wall with a mirror that reached from floor to ceiling. To the right and left there were doorways to the living room and the sitting room, but it was the mirror that had held his attention. Something about it gave him the creeps, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Yet another mystery for him to unravel. The spacious living room was where the house ended. A very comfortable house once you got used to the extra space. But something about the arrangement bothered him: where did their aunt sleep?

"So what about the 'Springs'," Jerome piped up, breaking into his brother's thoughts. The boy was bouncing on his sister's massive bed. Mackenzie had already decided that it was Jerome's new 'favorite place in the world' with its thick, comforter and 'downy soft' pillows. "Didn't Aunt Amy say we could play there after the tour?" He frowned as she shifted uncomfortably. "What's the matter now, Areyn?"

"Okay, _most _of the house is normal," she amended quietly. At their incredulous looks, the girl plowed ahead. "Look, the springs are in Aunt Amy's private rooms and they're the one place I haven't shown yet 'cause _I'm _barely allowed in there." The girl fixed her brothers with a serious look. "Now, it's true that she said we could play in there, but you guys have to swear that you'll help me clean up after."

"Sure," Lewis waved off the request, his curiosity peaked. "What's the big deal though?"

"When I first arrived she toured me through the house the same way I toured you. Everything looked pretty normal to me. But then I asked where she slept. Did y'all bring swim trunks or something," she asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Yeah," Lewis nodded, reaching for his bag. "She was very specific about bringing them too. Why?"

"Just grab 'em and come with me. You can change when we get there." On this ominous note she led them back into the living room. Before the boys could complain, however, she walked over to the far wall and knocked a brisk and complicated pattern of knocks on the wall.

"Areyn, what are you-"

Just then the wall dissolved into a heavy, old-looking door made of scarred but solid oak. The girl grasped the brass knob and twisted, pushing the heavy barrier open a crack before addressing her stunned brothers.

"Secret doorway; there's a couple in the house. Usually you just have to knock a certain way, but if Aunt Amy hadn't said aloud that we could go in, the door wouldn't have even appeared. The first time I used the springs, she told me that her rooms are her sanctuary. She's really, _really_ particular about her things, so I'm not quite sure what she'll do to us if we leave a mess." She started in, and then stopped turning back to them with a nervous look. "Do not jump on the bed," she commanded, staring Jerome down until his eyes dropped. Then she turned her sudden scowl on the rest of the group. "Don't mess with anything and don't touch anything in her room. We're only allowed to use the bathroom."

The warning was clear: _I still have to live here after you go. Don't embarrass me._ But wait-

"Bathroom?" Lewis asked in confusion. "But I thought you said-"

"You'll see," she interrupted with a wry grin. With that, she pushed the door open, allowing her anxious brothers their first glimpse of her guardian's private rooms. Their jaws hit the floor once again. Their aunt's bedroom, in stark contrast to the rest of the place, looked very much like a carpeted oasis. The illusion was maintained by the jungle foliage and animals painted on the walls which moved realistically enough to make a fine sheen of sweat break out on Lewis' skin when something large and ominous-looking peered out of a bush and licked its teeth hungrily before moving back into the live canopy behind him. Most of the furniture blended into the scenery, making the boys wonder just how much power their aunt really had. Even the pictures moved in this room, waving at the boys and making cheeky gestures that made their dark skin flush with color.

"My God, Areyn. What is this place?"

Without an answer or even a sideways glance at the most blatantly magical display they'd witnessed since coming home over a year ago to see their own house in shambles, the girl crossed the room and pushed open the double doors to their right to show her brothers something that was guaranteed to make their eyes fall out of their sockets.

"Here are 'the springs' we were talking about earlier. 'The Springs' is short for the hot springs. Take a look." Lewis couldn't find words for a moment; he was too caught up in what he was seeing. As alien to northern Montana as the jungle in his aunt's bedroom, the springs resembled the old Japanese hot springs he'd seen in cartoons as a kid. The walls appeared to be made of solid rock, sloping gently down into a pool of steaming mineral water three times the size of a regular Jacuzzi. There didn't seem to be a toilet or sink to spoil the picture, but the teenager did notice a suspicious-looking outcropping at the far end of the room that may have served that purpose.

"You shower over in the corner," Areyn interjected quietly, seeming to not want to spoil the moment for the boys. "After that, you just climb in and relax. The water may feel kinda weird at first, but you'll love it, I promise. Remember, this is where Aunt Amy comes to relax, so she'll likely skin us if we leave a mess. There are plenty of towels and soap by the shower area. I'll go first since my bathing suit's already in here, okay?" Lewis stared after her, still in shock.

"Magic people live like this?" he asked once they were all settled in the satiny water. His sister had been right about the water - it didn't feel like water at all. It was hot and very thick, and made him think of the softest things he'd ever felt in his life. Even Matthew did not seem to be having trouble navigating the overly buoyant pool with his three-year-old limbs. The rest of the children were clustered comfortably against the edges of the pool, doing little more than bobbing their heads in and out of the water while the heat in the room turned their once tensed muscles to mush.

"Mr. White said that they're - we're - called Magiks with a 'k', and yeah, they seem to live any way they please."

"But what happens if... non-Magiks come to visit?" Mackenzie put in thoughtfully after coming up from a brief dip under water.

"When was the last time you saw advertisements to 'come enjoy beautiful, remote Montana', Mackenzie?" she answered glibly. "No one comes here without a really good reason, and the harsh climate usually makes those visits brief. As for when they do get here... You know, I really don't know to tell you the truth," the girl shrugged. "You guys are the first visitors I've seen, and you already know I have magic. Mostly people just pass through this state without thinking twice. I've never really thought about it, actually."

"Well, maybe you should ask Aunt Amy, since we're gonna be spending a lot of the summer here."

"She's your aunt too, why can't you- what do you mean, 'a lot of the summer'," she responded, switching topics to match the boy.

"Because you just said that you're one of 'them', Ara," Lewis shot back smugly, using the family's childhood nickname for her. "And of course we'll be visiting lots over the summer! As soon June rolls around, dad's bitch'll have to deal with us full-time. You know as well as I do how well that'll go, so we've worked it out with Lala."

"Lala's gonna help you sneak across the country just to see me?" the girl asked doubtfully. It was a fair question. Her mother's mother - besides being their closest relative and the only one that had even bothered with the Pryce children after their father's remarriage - was also the picture of integrity. Indeed, the girl had thought that sending those letters had been the extent of her cunning up until now.

"Well, we haven't worked out all the details yet," Mackenzie added helpfully before laughing with the boys as their youngest brother took in a mouthful of the water and started sputtering. "She'll probably have us cleaning her place out for half a week and let us visit the other half or something. But the point is, we should be able to see you at least twice a month all summer if not more."

"And how do y'all plan to get away with that?"

"I told you, we haven't-"

"That's not what I mean," she said, grabbing her baby brother out of the water where he was still flailing and setting him on the ledge to recover. "Four rambunctious boys running around at their grandmother's house are hard to miss. Don't you think those nosy neighbors of hers are gonna notice it when the noise suddenly dies down at her place? What if Keva comes to get you early halfway through the summer for some reason? And just how do you plan on keeping _him_ silent?" she ended, jerking a thumb at her now sleeping brother's direction. "Matthew's only three after all, and even he can see the magic that's all over this place. If he even mentions this in passing we're all goners!"

"We're all aware of the risks, Areyn. Probably more than you are at this point." Mackenzie's face was suddenly set in a stern look that made her want to hurt him badly.

"Oh shut up, Mac," she ground out instead, her fists clenched hard enough to draw blood under the water. "I'll see your broken arm and raise you the worst belt-whipping of my life - which I _still_ have nightmares about, thank you for asking - a month and a half of starvation with intent to kill, and a bona fide death threat from my own damn father! I know exactly how dangerous it is for you to be here. In fact, I though I was hallucinating when I came up from the gym and saw you."

"Is that where you were?" Jerome asked excitedly. "You're gonna show us tomorrow, right?"

"Stay on topic, man," Mackenzie snapped, and then turned to his sister. "I'm not sure what's gonna happen, but I think Aunt Amy is. She showed up with a bang-"

"Literally," Jerome nodded.

"- and said she needed to speak to Lala," Mackenzie finished with an annoyed look at his younger brother. "After they'd talked for awhile, Lala told us that we'd be staying at her house this weekend and what we were to pack so that Aunt Amy could come and get us. Lew even asked how we were gonna get away with it. Lala just said that Aunt Amy was gonna take care of it."

"And I have," a new voice chirped primly, scaring all of the occupants of the springs. Amy looked the solemn, and somewhat guilty-looking, children over critically, satisfied that her plan to put her niece back in contact with her nephews had gone so well. The girl had admitted more in one single evening about her feelings and fears than she had since coming to Montana.

"It's time for bed, children, as I'm sure you'll need your strength for whatever fun and games you have in store for you tomorrow." She watched as her charge scampered timidly across the room to get towels for her brothers. "I'll be cleaning up tonight, little girl. I appreciate the warnings, however. Good night." They filed past their aunt almost fearfully as they walked past her and out of the room, Lewis carrying his sleeping brother. Once they were gone, she smiled, thinking of the phantom voices that would echo through their grandmother's house while they were here. They were right to be worried about discovery, but after this weekend, she hoped that they would trust her to protect their bond.

----------

"Don't worry about anything, sis," Lewis said quietly, hugging his sister tightly and fighting for composure. "We'll be in touch as soon as we can. And just think; now we won't have to rely on letters!"

"I know," Areyn sniffled. "It was just like old times for a bit there, wasn't it?"

Jerome joined in the hug for a moment, then grinned. "Naw! We never had our own private gym before."

The girl swatted at him playfully. "Be safe, okay? Even if I'm destined to flunk out of Northloft before I even start, I still need to be able to say I've got three badass brothers when shit goes down, a'ight?" They all laughed at the excessive profanity.

"Are you ready then?" Aunt Amy came up behind them.

"Does she always do that?" Mackenzie whispered in annoyance. "She's gonna give me a heart attack!"

"You have no idea," Areyn whispered back, before giving him a final squeeze. "Take care."

"You know it," the boy promised. "This'll be our secret, you know that! And this way we can keep our promise to Mom. Don't worry."

"And what do you mean 'flunk out'?" Lewis put in with an evil glint in his eye. "You ace everything; you always have. 'There's not a test Ara can't pass'. Remember what Mom used to say that?"

The girl managed a thin smile and waved until they walked through the mirror in the front entryway that would take them back to Philadelphia. "Yeah... But this is a whole new ballgame, Lew," she said quietly when the portal closed.

----------

"Penny for your thoughts," a pleasant male voice said. He hadn't expected an answer, but was pleased to see that it jolted the girl from her daydreams.

"Huh?"

"I said, 'penny for your thoughts'," Costus White repeated nonchalantly. She turned her troubled gaze on the tall man currently sitting in the back seat of her aunt's Ford Taurus. He had the classic good looks of a heart-throb. Everything about him screamed 'ladies man' - from his tanned skin and cherubic face accented with a smart goatee, to his curly black hair and soulful brown eyes that could scorch or freeze the blood as the mood took him. Only one thing marred the image he presented - some faint scarring around his left eye which added to his mystique rather than detracting from it. To those who knew the man, however, it was his keen mind and sharp wit that stuck out the most. He was her aunt's latest employee, a junior at the University of Montana majoring in architecture and business while pursing a minor in philosophy. This further distanced him from the 'pretty-boy' stereotype. After three years he'd become an apprentice of sorts to the businesswoman and everyone knew that he would inherit her business when the self-made millionaire retired in a few years.

He'd taken his boss' niece under his wing when she'd first arrived, scared and very much alone in the Treasure State. The girl, who referred to him as her 'big brother' now, had proven quite a bright spark and a refreshing change from the people and powers that usually populated his world. So he'd become very concerned as he'd watched her light dim under the weight of her worries over the last few weeks. Lately a frown was always on her brow and she was cramming in a way that reminded him of one of his old classmates last semester; the one that had ended up having a psychotic break before he ever got to his exams. His other reason for tagging along to Great Falls was to make sure she would be alright. The first had nothing to do with the Potential or her aunt.

"What's on your mind, sis?" he tried again.

"Emmanuel Junior High," the girl muttered in defeat, shifting in her seat. "I guess it's a good thing I won that writing scholarship. At least my first year in hell will be paid for."

"We're back to this again," Amy sighed, switching lanes to pass a tractor. "Areyn, you will be fine."

"Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional," Costus laughed, catching Amy's eye in the rear view mirror. Inside he was seething; she'd promised to let him handle her niece during this trip since the woman had confessed to being at the end of her proverbial rope with the child's 'moping'.

"Come on, Areyn, talk to me," he prodded. "Stewing never solves anything."

"Who cares?" she answered petulantly.

"I care," he insisted. "Come on. We've been friends since you got here. You're not gonna shut me out now, are ya?" He watched her shift uncomfortably at the logic and smiled.

"It's just... How am I supposed to compete with the others?" she burst out suddenly. "There are gonna be kids there that have been around magic literally since the day they were born! I didn't even know I might be a Magik until last year and I haven't actually learned much of anything about my condition since I got here."

"Well, for one thing, it's not a 'condition'," the man put in helpfully. He'd listened to bits of this argument over the last month or so as she repeated it to each of her aunt's employees. He would never understand why no one had bothered to set her straight on the facts of the matter.

"That's not the point!"

"You know, you should be grateful that no one's told you anything about this test," he started off matter-of-factly, ignoring the sharp look Amy shot him through the rearview. "In fact, you're pretty lucky you haven't been exposed to any magic yet. There's usually a _lot_ of speculation and rumors going around about this time of year. You wouldn't want to hear half the things they're proposing for the test."

"I might, if some of it's true," the girl snapped. "Can't you just give me a hint, bro?" she wheedled sweetly. "I won't tell anyone, promise!"

"He'd know," the man sighed, sounding more serious.

"Who'd know?"

"The headmaster." He couldn't help but shiver slightly and was gratified to see his employer do the same. "The Arc-professor has always been very good at knowing things like that. Believe me; you wouldn't like what would happen to you if he found out that you knew. There are always a handful of Potentials that have been told what the test is on. What happens to them... Now _those_ are the things to fear. We're doing you a favor, not telling."

"But what if I fail the test?" she whispered in panic. "What if-"

"What if you ended up having to wrestle a trollop or recite all the disarming spells and charms discovered in the twelfth century because we'd already told you what the real test was on?"

The girl's eyes were now the size of saucers. "But... I don't... What the heck's a trollop?"

"Exactly," he nodded slowly. "Those are only a couple of the stories I heard while I was at that school. The Arc-Professor is very protective when it comes to Potentials. He insists that they all go into their test with their wits and nothing more. It's better to do it his way than to oppose him."

"Okay," she whispered, settling back to absorb this new information. The rest of the trip was silent.

The group arrived in Great Falls after three hours. Costus bid the ladies goodnight before heading out into the crowd to start his own work.

Areyn was too busy looking around her new surroundings to really notice his departure. Philadelphia was a city full of bright lights and interesting sights. It was a city that slept, but seemed to have the type of insomnia that came with old age. Compared to that, Chinook was little more than two streets and a crosswalk. There was a smorgasbord of small family businesses - a Laundromat, a couple of small restaurants advertising such delicacies as "authentic Philly cheese steaks" - which never failed to piss her off. An old-fashioned ice cream parlor, a toy store, a hardware store, a bar, and a small gas station finished the sleepy but picturesque Main Street. A block over stood the Chinook school district with most of the residential area clustered around the elementary and junior high schools.

Someone had attempted to bring a bit of civilization to the town by opening a McDonald's and a porn store at the edge of town closest to the Interstate a few years back. Unfortunately these "new" establishments - which the Chinook residents had studiously ignored - had not been close enough to the Interstate to survive. In fact, some of the newest businesses in town were the used car lot and her aunt's antique shop. The used car lot had opened five years ago and was tottering on the edge of bankruptcy due to a couple of bad investments. This left Amy's Niceties, which her aunt had bought from the old antiques dealer straight out of college twenty years ago and had turned into the most prestigious antiques franchises in the region despite the town's seeming insistence that no business ever do well enough to be more than just out of the red without touching the black.

The girl didn't have to be a financial genius to appreciate that her Aunt Amy was. According to the businesswoman's first (and oldest) employee, the shop had been in a second grace period to their foreclosure when her guardian had purchased it with a "business" loan that had been designed to put the woman in her place rather than help the budding new business. Now it was the largest source of Chinook's non-school related income in spite of its residents' multiple attempts at stonewalling. There were even satellite branches in Ohio, Kentucky, Missouri, and a soon to be opened office in Billings. It was no secret that if the woman ever decided to pull up stakes in her hometown, Chinook would fall hopelessly into debt, which meant that she received every incentive the town had to offer to stay right where she was.

But Great Falls was nothing like Chinook or Philadelphia. The place fairly pulsed with possibilities and new opportunities. The buildings were brighter, the businesses were booming and there seemed to be an optimism in the air that demanded a smile of the girl despite her present troubles. Anything could happen here - that much was clear. And all of this was even before the magic that she figured must be somewhere in the area if this was where the test was going to be held.

"Is it always like this, Aunt Amy?" she whispered, surprised by the awed respect in her voice.

"Always," the woman chuckled, leading her charge down a street completely occupied by hotels and motels. "And it'll be worse this weekend with all of the Potentials."

"Where will they all be coming from?" the girl asked idly as she watched a couple of teenagers skateboard past her with varying colors in their foot high, spiked Mohawks.

"Those," Aunt Amy said, nodding to the teens, "could come from anywhere. And if they're Magiks, they'll already be in school. The rest of your class will be coming from all points across Canada and any state north of the Mason-Dixie Line. That's all Northloft territory."

"What about the rest?"

"Anyone from southern America and Mexico ends up at the other magic school which is down in Mexico. I don't remember the name offhand."

"La Ventana de la Escuela de Las Posibilidades de la Brujería y de Wizardry," a deep, soothing voice supplied helpfully. "It means 'The Window of Possibilities School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They call it 'La Ventana de Posibilidades' for short."

"Gene," the girl's aunt exclaimed, whipping around to greet the man walking behind them. The two seemed like good friends, as they immediately started talking and laughing, leaving her and the gentleman who'd obviously been walking with this 'Gene' character before his interruption.

"Gene, this is my niece, Areyn Pryce. She's here to take the test tomorrow." Areyn, who'd never seen her aunt laugh with such abandon, could only stare at the woman and try to resist the urge to check her eyes for pods.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Areyn Pryce. My name is Gene Wilder - no relation to the actor, of course. I teach Care of Magical Creatures at Northloft." The first thing she noticed was that helooked and sounded exactly like a favorite character from a movie she and her brothers used to watch all the time, _Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_. He was tall and lean with curly brown-blond hair that stuck out wildly from under his top hat. It would have struck the girl as strange that he was wearing a top hat and suit yet seemed as if he had nowhere special to go, but looking into his warm hazel eyes, it suddenly didn't seem so out of place. She shook his offered hand weakly, feeling the surreal nature of the moment creeping up on her. "Oh, and this is the head of the janitorial staff at Northloft, Frank Essland." Again a hand was offered which she only just managed to remember to shake. "He's only just started working last week, so I believe you may have a little in common."

"She's quite a quiet little girl, isn't she?" Frank put in kindly, looking her over in a way that was supposed to look casual but wasn't. "So, you'll be taking the test tomorrow, then?"

"Y-yes sir," Areyn stuttered shivering under his gaze. Something about the man just didn't sit right with her, though neither her aunt nor this Northloft teacher seemed to notice. He looked like a typical janitor - a balding man who was slightly overweight, but looked more than capable of carrying out his duties. However... Maybe it was his eyes; flat, expressionless eyes the color of dirty wash water. They took on some semblance of humor when he smiled, but it was not the kind of humor she was used to. It was cruel and calculating, and it gave her the creeps.

"So what does Northloft stand for," she asked at last, pulling her eyes away from the janitor's. The question had come out a little more curtly than she'd intended, but she couldn't think of a way to soften her tone at the moment. In truth, she'd almost had a heart attack when a stranger had jumped into their conversation. She hadn't been aware that they'd been talking that loudly.

"Oh Northloft stands for just that," Frank answered, winking disarmingly at the girl and almost frowning at her shudder. His eyes narrowed at this new development, but then he dismissed it with a shrug. "When Walter Brigsby founded the place, he decided that he wanted to 'keep it simple'. Plenty of people gave him hell and brimstone over it, you understand, but whenever someone started one of them petitions or some such, he'd look 'em straight in the eye and say 'my school; my rules'. And it turns out he really meant it! Some headmaster tried changing the name after old Walter died, some sixty years back, and that's when we learned about an extra set of enchantments on the school. If anyone tries to rename it, the school will literally shut down. That headmaster was furious about it too. Tried to get around it, but old Walter was smarter than that. The spell's weaved in through the magic that moved that mountain in the first place, and you can't untangle foundational magic without a number of skilled Magiks and a miracle. Even then, the Magiks would all likely end up dead."

Areyn couldn't think of anything to say to that, so she nodded her thanks and rushed to catch up to her aunt and Mr. Wilder, who'd wandered off down the street during the explanation.

"So... Northloft is in the mountains?" she asked at last.

"Of course not, my dear," Mr. Wilder said, looking baffled. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, Mr. Essland just said-"

"I guess you could say it's in the mountains," Mr. Essland laughed from behind her, scratching his head. "After all, that's where-"

"You most certainly cannot say that," the first man said, sounding very upset and looking so much like Willy Wonka that she had to stop herself from looking around for Charlie. "The school _is_ the mountain, my dear young lady. It is a single mountain that stands tall and proud in the middle of Saskatchewan."

"Wait... I thought Saskatchewan was all flat prairie land?"

The man cast an indignant look in her aunt's direction, and the woman had the good grace to blush at the silent reprimand. "There is a great deal of magic invested in the school, Ms. Pryce. Mr. Brigsby spent a great deal of energy transporting the outer shell of one of the greatest of the Canadian Rocky Mountains to Saskatchewan because at the time it was considered a prime location for a school. It takes even more to keep the place properly obfuscated and undetectable from the Regs, and unplottable and safe from unfriendly Magik forces. We are quite a hard-working bunch up at Northloft," the man finished with a flourish, making Areyn blush and giggle. She suddenly really hoped that she got into this school, if for no other reason than to be taught by this man on a regular basis. She had a feeling that she could learn a lot from him.

"So, how were things up at Northloft?" her aunt said, obviously trying to change the subject. "How many Potentials are there this time around?"

"There'll be one less than there should have been next year," Mr. Wilder sighed heavily.

"What happened?"

"You haven't heard about poor Eric Richards?" Mr. Essland blinked. "The trial's about to start; I figured everyone knew about it."

"Well, Chinnook isn't exactly the metropolis that Great Falls or Northloft is," Aunt Amy said with a touch of annoyance. "We don't always hear the latest gossip."

"It's not gossip," The teacher interrupted before the argument could escalate. "Eric Richards fell in front of a train when he went home to Missouri during the Easter break."

"What??"

"Oh, it gets better," the janitor said, shaking his head in disgust. "Wait till you find out why he did it."

"It was deliberate?" the woman blinked, casting a worried glance at her thoroughly stunned niece. Mr. Wilder was already shaking his head.

"He left a suicide note and everything. In fact, he refused to do it until he'd cleaned his room and done the dishes at the end of the day. They say he died with a smile on his face." He couldn't help but wince at the women's twin looks of horror.

"They arrested Gary Richards the night it happened. It turns out that the poor boy had been abused and beaten almost weekly for years. His alcoholic of a father felt that he deserved it for being the only dunce in a pure wizarding family."

"And the mother?" Aunt Amy demanded furiously. "I'm sure she'll be answering for negligence and accessory to child abuse, correct?"

"She would have, if the stupid whore'd been brave enough to face the world without her little punching bag," Mr. Essland spat. "She not only let the boy be beaten to a bloody pulp on a regular basis, she encouraged it. See, if old Gary was beating the boy, he didn't have time to see her credit card bills and beat her instead. When she found out it was going to be just her and the mister at home from now on, she went up the stairs and turned a killing curse on herself. The police were still there and everything; had to have their memories modified by the Enforcers when they got there."

"She killed herself too?" Areyn asked, shaking despite the warm night. Her aunt must have noticed, because a warm arm was suddenly wrapped around her shoulders.

"Don't you worry little darling," the janitor laughed, misinterpreting the girl's tone. "Gary Richard's will be spending the rest of his miserable life in a nice, comfy cell in Zeneezea. Not that anyone would ever hurt a pretty little thing like yourself." She shuddered again at his words and this time Frank did frown. "What's the matter with you?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Perhaps the young lady has been traumatized by the heart-wrenching story we've just finished relating," Mr. Wilder said, a slight edge in his voice. Then he turned and bowed low to the ladies. "I'm afraid that we really must be going. This was a business trip after all and we've been away too long. I apologize for being the bearer of such sad tidings." He raised his head with a renewed twinkle in his eyes. I would wish you luck on tomorrow's test, Areyn, but you seem more than capable of handling it without such sentiments. So I will simply look forward to seeing you in the fall."

"Thank you, Mr. Wilder." The girl blushed at the sincerity in his voice and eyes. She definitely liked this teacher.

"Yeah, you take care of yourself, little lady," Mr. Essland laughed, that chilling smile back on his face. He nodded gave her one last piercing gaze with his dirty dish water eyes before nodding to Aunt Amy and heading off.

* * *

Apologies for the extremely long delay in getting this chapter posted. I want to take this opportunity to assure everyone that I have not abandoned this story. Unfortunately, however, it seems that my school schedule will continue intruding on my free-time. Nonetheless, I have already begun chapter four, where Areyn and Chris will meet for the first time and we will finally find out about the mysterious 'test'.

Please look forward to the next chapter!

-Minghella Darcy


End file.
